


The Evacuee

by J_Shute_Norway



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Abuse, Evacuee, Fantastic Racism, Gaslighting, Gen, Halloween version, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-05 06:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12788598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Shute_Norway/pseuds/J_Shute_Norway
Summary: They Evacuated Nicholas from Zootopia to protect him from the blitz. He was meant to be safe from the wrath of prey supremacists... He had no idea that he was being taken towards a monster just as bad.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This AU started as a reverse goodnight mister Tom idea. However, I quickly found that the dark side and the light side clashes too much, so I seperated them. The light and fluffy version will be released eventually (probably titled Evacuated). This version was originally released on FF.net on Halloween, but I'm putting it up here as I'm a comment whore and want more comments.

**.**

**Chapter 1**

.

Otto Hopps was not a buck of few words.

.

Indeed, many of his former friends had distanced themselves from him over the years due to how often he spoke up about this and that. ' _The Crops will be good this year_ ' or ' _we're digging down a new level of the burrow_ ' were the most common things to come up. However, this was the kind of gentle talk over a ploughman's and a Saturday afternoon's drink that all the other farmers would do. The Thumpers, the Lops, the Whitefoots and pretty much every other bunny family would have the same thing on their tongues at this stage or that of their lives. Indeed, after a long day of overseeing their respective burrows, there was nothing that each ones patriarch enjoyed more than nursing an imperial ouncer of beer and hearing how their colleagues were engaged in similar, but not quite the same, challenges as they were.

It was the many other topics that Otto Hopps brought up that turned his former friends into just that. Old Bill Cottontail, for one, had been munching some pickle laden celery one day when Otto had decided to go on one of his long and rambling talks about the Knights, in doing so making the pleasant malt acidity of the formers Ramston pickle mix go sour along with their friendship.

Many of those around the table had shifted their eyes between each other, exchanging dark and wordless looks, before giving a sigh of weariness at what they knew was bound to come up.

The Knights hadn't marched through Bunnyburrow in at least two generations. Even Paul Skipson, who'd long ago been a knave in their town's last Knights parade and cross burning, had, in the many years past, conceded that the whole affair was rather stupid. Yes, when he'd been a young kit he'd looked up wide eyed at the shining white enamel armour and the decorative shields and flairs. Even the exotic names, such as Templar and Paladin helped to inspire the awe so many had felt. He'd marched along and sung the songs and proudly vowed to protect the women and children of Bunnyburrow from the ever-lurking hunger and savagery of stalking, prowling predators. Heck, he'd even bowed to their local prince, Otto Hopps himself, as he eagerly awaited his full induction into the order.

Despite all this, Paul had changed in the many years since. His prejudices had worn down greatly in the intermeaning years. Sure, he'd scoffed at the new city police academy which pumped out more predator graduates than prey, but that all changed when his lost daughter had been tracked down by one of those very preds, a big-bad wolf no less! Then there were the many other tree climbers, preds who'd arrive every autumn to clean his orchards of their fruit. And, while he personally thought a mega-bat like a flying fox would be better adapted for the job, he couldn't help but feel gratitude for the cheetah who ran emergency dispatches to and from the post office. Even his oldest and deepest prejudice, the age-old adage to never trust a fox, had been mostly worn away given that his draft horse farmhands had been reshod by a caravan of travelling gray foxes for years now.

All in all, as Otto carried on his rambling nonsense about the need for a new crusade against ' _The Chomper Horde_ ', his former prodigy politely stayed quiet. If anything, he was glad the knights had wound down before he could be fully inducted in, given that the rite of passage to do so involved 'defending' someone from an aggressive pred (or, more often than not, attacking a poor sod who just happened to sniff the wrong way).

But if Skipson had given up on the ' _Knights of the Muzzle_ ' in response to the advantages of working with preds, then Hopps had only gained enthusiasm. And so, on that day, he'd proudly boasted of how there should be a warning march every day, and how one knight should be stationed in each and every classroom with a pred in, in order to 'stop them going savage' or 'polluting the young ones minds with their vile, cunning fox propaganda'. His tirades had gone on for the best part of an hour after that, while most bucks had phased out in muted response. Drinking more ouncers of beer, finishing their food, reading the papers about the sudden annexation of Katavulpia by the Cud Reich. However, while Paul and the others had just accepted the semi-common rambles as one of Otto's flaws on that day, William Albert Cottontail had given up, both on Otto and his own celery with Ramston pickle. In those long minutes in which Otto talked about how it was part of 'the great conspiracy' that all his 'beautiful tools of justice' were lying in the basement gathering dust, Bill Cottontail decided he didn't like the older buck's company at all.

And so, he stood up and walked off to join another set of farmers who'd likely taken the same action long ago. Out of one cloud of smoke, across the moody noise filled room and past the bar, till he entered a new cloud of smoke. Here, Bill settled down and said 'Hello' to the other farm owners. Soon, jokes were passing between them, along with the expected small talk of how it was getting harder to dig new burrow floors, or how the newest generation were getting ever more rebellious. In that conversation, there was even a passing mention of how it would be easier when Otto, who was a generation older than all the others in the two groups, would depart from this world. Bill felt a twinge of distaste at that, and voice his discomfort at the sentiment. The (relatively) young hare who raised it apologised, before saying that they could at least hope that Otto would get better.

.

When war was declared, it got worse.

.

Far worse.

.

"It's stupid!" Otto cried, as he took in another deep swig of his beer. On either side of him, all along the varnished wooden bar, the other bucks just stayed silent. Ears down, eyes front, just let it all blow over. That had long been their mantra for such occasions, with there being two main reasons that they didn't just storm out right there.

The first (and probably most important reason) was the respect they still somewhat held for the groups sole septuagenarian. Age, of course, improved one's standing in the community, even though in Otto's case it didn't seem to have begot wisdom. More than that, the very way Otto had aged added to his standing and presence greatly. Rather than being infirm and weak, he still had a decent bit of strength in him, and was more involved than any of them in both the management of his farm and the management of his family. His voice had clout and volume, matched by the power of the thwacks his cane could give if anyone ever disrespected him.

The second factor was that the barmaid didn't like the tirades either. She busied herself, jiggling things at the back to make it look like she was productive, with the rather fine by-product of a fit and spunky young tail pointing right back at the gallery of bucks. The fact they were all over fifty and well married, while she was barely out of school, didn't matter. The men could wipe the dust from their paws and enjoy some local produce surely?

"The Cud Reich finally has the guts to do something about those filthy chompers and what do we do? We declare war on them! ON THEM!"

"Calm down Otty," one of the fellow farmers, a certain buck by the name of Richard Warren warned, only to flinch back as the elderly buck slammed his fist down on the bar table with enough force to knock many of the beer-tap labels hanging up above them all right off their hooks. They fell down onto the bar, the barmaid groaned and turned to pick them up, and many of the other farmers sighing at both the futility of Warren's actions and the removal of their entertainment. Instead, they turned their gaze to their reflections in the brass beer taps as he continued.

"DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!" Otto ranted back, "Not when we're attacking the only nation with the guts to do what is needed!"

"And what is that?" came a call from across the pub. Otto turned to face the new caller, squinting and adjusting his glasses as he set them on a familiar bunny.

"Purge those filthy chompers Bill!" Otto said, his bony fist clenched with pride and determination. "But all those in our once great nation have gone soft! It's as if most people don't even acknowledge the predator problem anymore!"

"The predators' problem is they're unfortunate enough to live in a world with the likes of you!" William Cottontail called back, instantly sending half of the crowd of regulars into a chorus of deep laughs.

"A toast to Bill, the Otto tamer," one called, holding his beer up high, before finishing it and turning back to the barmaid to order another.

Otto just looked from side to side, his greying muzzle badly disguising his disgust, before he grabbed the handle of his cane and held it up high. "It is their problem!" Otto said proudly. "Just like a teacher's belt is a problem for a class ruffian. Always a pred, of course."

"Come now Otto," Richard Warren said. "I was always hiding behind the big preds in my class. We all were, given how they were the only ones the class bully wouldn't go after."

Otto snorted. "It's like the people who say all these bloody pred coppers mean we can trust predators the world over! They're only solving a problem that they made, and we treat them like bread from heaven. Not like the spawn of hell they really are!"

"Our class bully was a bull," Richard clarified. "His toady was a deer who'd grown in his antlers a good few years too early. And I tell you one thing, it was us and a few of the smaller preds who worked out how to get back at them. We sawed the antlers off the one and stuck 'em up the arse of the other!"

The whole bar erupted into laughter, the fellow punters screaming out their toast to Dicky Warren's good health. Even Otto couldn't resist letting the smallest of small smiles grow across his muzzle, before it resumed back to its usual scowl.

"Still…" Otto mused. "The Reich are solving the pred problem, getting rid of the chompers. Everything would be so much better here if they could come over quickly and do the same."

.

.

"You taking the piss, Hopps?"

Otto blinked a few times, before turning to face Bill Warren, who'd got off his seat and was marching over. "No," he scowled in return. "No more than you pred sympathisers are!"

Bill stopped short of Otto, his mouth twitching around before he spat down at the floor. "My sons, and most of my grandsons who are old enough, have volunteered up and are in the army! Fourth burrows division. Third tunnellers… Hell, many of the lightest ones were advised to train as fighter and bomber pilots! So, when you go about asking those scum in the Cud Reich to come over here and do what they're currently doing to Poleland, don't you dare say you're not pulling my whiskers!"

Otto shrugged, before turning back to face the bar. "If we must have a war, why not a short one? A quick one? The last war was four years of hell. I know that. I was there! Pushed into the trenches by the machinations of the pred conspirators, all to feed their bloodlust and let them make a fortune selling weapons and the like! Don't you think that it would all be better if we have a quick defeat, and then they take care of our pred problem for us, rather than half a decade spent bleeding!?"

"Pred problem, pred problem," Bill sneered. "It's always the pred problem with you. But what problem? Most of us employ preds in some way or another! Most of us have worked out that the ' _Knights of the Muzzle_ ' were stupid and it's a good thing the order's dead!"

"And what if a filthy devil spawn fox comes to drag you and your family off to throw into his pot?" Otto asked, still facing away from Bill.

"I'm a farmer. I have a shotgun," the younger buck said back, gritting his teeth. "Also, five bunnies with pitchforks and the like can easily fend off the biggest, baddest fox you can imagine. And that's the whole point, isn't it? Stopping this old nonsense and learning to work together. To tolerate, or at least pretending to tolerate each other in pleasant conversation, benefits everyone! Damn it, I did it enough with you, didn't I?"

"Preds evolved to work and think for themselves," Otto replied back. "An inability to function in society is as inbred into them as their latent savagery! Those Chompers only think about themselves and putting the next meal into their greedy stomachs!"

"What about wolves?" Richard Warren called from down the bar, sending the whole group into a murmur of agreement.

"Ferrets cleaned out my plumbing system," said one.

"And I had an ermine sweep my chimneys," said another.

"I recommended that company," a third bunny farmer said, "and I've had sniffers help me detect crop pests…"

"ENOUGH!" Otto screamed. He stood up and scowled, scanning around the room like a paranoid meerkat looking out for any attackers. "Fraternizers…" he cursed, spitting out the word like it hurt. "The lot of you, taken in by the enemy! They're gonna get you, and they're doing it so slowly you don't even notice! Well, if you lot don't see sense, I see no reason to stay here. Good day!" And with that, he threw down some spare change to pay for his tab, slipped himself off his barstool and began marching out, the rhythmic tap of his cane on the worn wooden floor the only sound breaking the awkward silence until he left the building.

.

"A TOAST TO BILL COTTONTAIL! THE OTTO TAMER!" one of the rabbits shouted, his beer held high. Within seconds, all the others were holding their own glasses up, cheering and crying out in support.

"Well then," he chuckled, before he brought up his own beer. "To the good health of my fellow tamer, Dicky Warren!"

A second round of cheers went up, as Richard Warren took a bow, before giving the third and final toast of the evening. "To the benefit of all predators in a hundred miles of us! May they sleep safe at night, even while Otto Hopps stalks the land!"

A ruckus of laughs and cheers went up as Otto Hopps, who was walking down the road to go back home, lifted his ears up to listen in. Scowling, he just grumbled and cursed as he carried on.

.

.

.

"Hear the news from the front?"

Answering the question, Otto Hopps shuffled across the bench to get a closer look at Paul Skipson's newspaper. He only got a quick glance at the report of the fourth army's encirclement on the coastal dunes of Northern Furance before Paul Skipson turned to face him. "Your son-in-law is in that army, isn't he?"

"Half of them are," Otto replied.

"No, but your biggest one is, isn't he?"

"I assume you mean Stuart," Otto said plainly.

"Do you have any other son-in-laws who you forced to take your daughters last name?" Paul asked, making Otto chuckle.

"I had to make sure he'd take care of my baby Bonnie, didn't I?" Otto replied. "And in any case, he was falling over to do it." Hopps settled back into his seat and smiled. Bonnie was the last bunny of his dear wife's last litter. He'd made certain to instil some proper discipline into her. Respect for elders. Politeness. Even despite the fetid 'let's all get along with the murder machines' doctrine she was being fed in school, he'd even made her relatively wary of the Chomper menace. In response to that, he had to make sure his investment wouldn't be squandered by her marrying someone who threw out all those vital bunny values. Stuart had been the perfect choice. Strong. Cautious. An excellent farmer, but humble. Most importantly, he was a man of the earth and burrow, and he would never try to leap above his station like many others these days. He'd pushed the two together, making sure Bonnie didn't waver at any point (even if he had to threaten to punish her like a kit again on some occasions) and it had worked. They came together, productive and raising a massive new generation who were at least somewhat less affected by the rot than many others. If things went right, he'd still be around to sort out some of the silly childhood delusions that some members of his daughter's fledgling family had before he passed, and so his hard-earned legacy would carry on.

"And a good thing too," Paul replied back. "Last time I heard, they were approaching three hundred kits."

"Two-seven-five," Otto clarified. "Though that's a quarter of my total grandchildren. Rather good thing I made him take the Hopps name, wasn't it?"

"Certainly," Paul agreed. "I mean, I'm happy with one tenth that."

"As was I," Otto agreed. "And hopefully when he gets back, there'll be plenty more!"

Paul turned back to the reports, before looking back at Otto. "If…"

Otto smiled slightly. "Don't worry."

"They're pretty well encircled," Paul stated, a warning in his voice. "While they're likely planning a breakout to retreat back to the main forces, there'll be some bloodshed. And Stuart was… Well, given a few more years he'd likely be too old to join, wouldn't he?"

"I said don't worry. Hell, I'll bet that it'll be a Hopps boy who gets the first medal!"

Paul smiled deviously and folded up his paper. Placing it down, he stood up on his chair, glass and fork in paws, before ringing one against the other to bring the whole room to attention. "You hear that fellows! Otto here wants a bet! Whose son gets the first medal!"

The whole room was suddenly filled up with rumbles of agreement, as bunny after bunny stepped forwards to join in on the wager.

"I beg to dampen your mood fellows," came a call from the barmaid. "But don't you want a prize for the winner?"

"YES!" Otto said proudly, his fist clenched high. "Something to get the Hopps family paws around. Something to last for the ages!"

"Like what?" came a call from a long-faced horse drinking in the back. "Your own orchard?"

"Half of us already have one of those, you dummy," Paul Skipson said. "But I think I have a better idea."

"What's that then?" a farmer called out.

"It says here," Paul replied, pointing to his paper, "that they're planning to evacuate all the children from in the city out to the country!"

"The officers already came down to my farm," Richard Warren announced. "Said we each have to take in children from one family, and I said I'd take in three!"

"That's because you and your kits can't breed for nothin'," Otto jeered. "Five kits. Twenty-seven grandkits. Pah!"

Richard ignored him, and turned back to Paul. "So, what are you thinking?"

"With these city kids, there'll be some clever clogs among them," he explained. "Ones who know how to read well and do sums just as good as our best grandkits! I bet we can get them to help our kits out, doing far more than just working in fields, though for that there'll also be some strong ones in the mix too. I say, whoever wins the bet will automatically get the smartest child in the group!"

"I'll raise a glass to that," someone said, before the room rang out to the calls of agreement. Bunny after bunny, along with multiple sheep, goats and other farmers agreed to it. Soon, the rumour spread and, by the following week, every family in Bunnyburrow had signed up.

.

.

.

The week after Paul had called his bet, the news came in. A tank charge, along with some heavy air and naval support, had allowed the bulk of the encircled fourth army to escape. But, for every seventeen mammals who'd survived, another three had either been captured, injured or killed in action. While censorship was critical, it was deemed acceptable to reveal that a company of volunteers had held a vital town, along with the artillery emplacements within, to enable the evacuation. While there were some snide remarks about it being a place for cowards who, deeming capture as a near guarantee , had stepped forward knowing they'd spend the rest of the war safe in a camp; those who'd held the town were generally hailed as heroes and were officially treated as such. About the same time, Otto Hopps, returning from the pub, came home to find his youngest daughter holding a letter in front of her.

She'd been crying.

His sudden pang of dread vanished as he saw the smile on her face.

"Bonnie," he said slowly, as he walked over to comfort her. "What's happened?"

"Stewie was one of the volunteers," she said. "He… he was captured. But he's safe. He's safe."

Otto felt a wave of relief flow over him. He walked forward and held his daughter tight, hugging her as she cried into him. As he did so, he looked over at the letter and noticed three words printed near the end.

 _'_ _Exemplary Service medal…'_

Through her sobs, Bonnie never felt the soft rumble of her father's proud chuckle. She just wanted to cry out her stress and tears, before getting on with the day to day business of helping to run the farm. In any case, tomorrow would be a very busy day indeed. She'd just got a letter telling her that her family was due to take in an evacuee from the city on the morrow, and she didn't want to give the little boy or girl anything less than the Hopps family's famous hospitality. She daren't think of doing it, especially with her father in charge.

.

.

Later that evening, in one of the oldest rooms of the burrow, Bonnie Hopps was busy at work. Hospitality had been taught to her since the time she could walk, and surely taking in a stranger in need was the grandest test to prove this. Her heart went out to whoever it was who was leaving their parents behind in the big city, to shelter here for the war.

Then again, she'd heard horror stories of life in some of the slums. Crowded terraces, multiple families to a single outside toilet and who knew what else. Worst of all was the fleas and mange. In the town hall, she'd always organised bake sales to help fund new rounds of delousing here and there. Of course, it would always be for the 'prey slums', as per father's orders. While father had taught her that preds were violent and foxes were red as they were made by the devil, she didn't really see why they didn't deserve delousing too. Sure, she knew to keep her head down and ears up whenever she bumped into one at the shops, but as long as they all stayed safely apart then surely everything would be fine? In any case, a screaming child was a screaming child, and her heart told her that charity should spread across species boundaries.

One occasion stood out to her. When she'd once heard screams from one of the fields, she'd ran across it with a primal concern in her heart. When it turned out that Gideon Grey, a particularly nasty fox some of her own children had run into, was the source, Bonnie hadn't been affected in the slightest. She'd patched up the bruises, cuts and even a gore mark from a horn, before taking him home to his parents. After that, she'd stayed somewhat in contact with Mrs Grey for a bit and, while she couldn't be sure, she felt that the opportunity to voice her concerns about Gideon's misdemeanours to them had resulted in some major effects for the better.

She shook her head to dismiss the train of thought: charity, delousing and the rest. While her heart always told her that there were predators in equal need, it constantly reinforced (in a much louder voice) that she should respect her father's voice and wisdom, lest she invoke his wrath. Her head also told her that it was always simpler to not argue with him, just to accept his talk about 'letting God do his work, spreading his righteous plague among them' and how it was their moral duty to avoid 'strengthening the enemy'.

"Need some help?"

Bonnie stood upright before turning down to the new voice. She smiled to herself as she saw one of her most notable daughters standing next to her. "That would be lovely Judy, thank you," she answered. "Could you fold those sheets and put them away?"

Judy got to work as Bonnie turned back to the matter at hand. Her father had said that the farmers had agreed to let him have the smartest evacuee of all those going to Bunnyburrow. She'd had her reservations, though she didn't voice them of course. Ideally, they'd get a mammal that was similar in size to a bunny, or smaller. She knew she was being selfish wishing for a mouse or rat or something, but maybe a squirrel or groundhog? She quite like the idea of a sheep, though she knew that that was even more selfish. She'd always enjoyed knitting, and had been doing it more frequently to relieve all the stress the war was causing her, what with the rationing, increased production requirements and, of course, knowing her dearest and many of their children were out there. A local source of wool would be ideal, particularly given the sheep land girls who'd arrived to take over much of the manual work kept it all for themselves.

"Is this where the city kid is going to sleep?" Judy asked as she lumbered over to a draw, her paws filled with sheets.

"Yes, it is," Bonnie replied.

"Why isn't he getting the guest room?" she asked.

"Well," Bonnie began, only to pause, not wanting to disrespect father. "We don't quite know what kind of mammal he's going to be. He might be a bit smaller, might be a bit larger. So, because he might be too large for the guest room, I thought we'd give him this room."

"Because we don't need it anymore," Judy said.

"That's right," Bonnie replied sadly. She looked around, her eyes lingering on the bed she'd spent many tired nights on, along with the surrounding cribs. It was the birthing room, where she'd given birth and raised all her kits, Judy included, for the first few days of their lives. After that, when they had their names and she knew nothing bad was going to happen, she'd move them down into one of the proper nurseries. Ever since Stuart had volunteered, coming up on six months ago, she'd felt a hole in her heart, her motherly instincts gnawing away. She loved all her kits, but there was something very special about the very youngest. It was just her looking after them. She and them, before her elder children began taking over most of the work.

"You okay Mum?"

"Fine," Bonnie lied, as he began grabbing the cribs and rolling them away. The windows were open and, as the room had the special privilege of being both above ground and on a corner of the burrow, there was a brisk breeze coming through. She didn't want her new visitor, whatever species they were, coping with the lingering smell of soiled nappies and stale air.

"Do you think I can be friends with her?"

"Or him?" Bonnie shot back.

"Or him!" Judy parroted.

"Oh, I'm sure," Bonnie replied. "You can tell them how much you helped to clean and tidy this room." She sighed as she looked around. "I don't think they'll like all the baby murals, so once we know what they're favourite colour is, we can repaint everything and both you and they can help."

"And we can have a paint fight!"

Bonnie chuckled, before looking over to Judy. "That's not very ladylike, is it?"

"I don't want to be a lady!" Judy pouted back. "I want to be a firemammal. Or a policemammal. Or a soldier!"

"Oh Judy," Bonnie said, as she went over to bring her daughter into a hug. She couldn't help but feel concerned for her. All she wanted to do was go out and do things, make the world a better place or serve the king. If she were any other species or even in any other bunny family she'd support it. But it wasn't part of father's plan, was it? He'd so far tolerated her on the few occasions that such conversations arose, though Bonnie feared what would happen if she grew older and yet didn't grow out of her flights of fancy. He was quick to temper, and she didn't want any of her kits, from the weakest to the bravest, to ever get hurt.

"I know…" she whined. "I'm a bunny, I have to do bunny things…"

"Yes," Bonnie agreed. "Pop-Pop is an old, clever bunny, and he has a plan for all of us."

"And I don't want to make Pop-Pop mad," Judy sighed.

"That's right," her mother agreed grimly. "That's right. It's for the best. For all of us."

Bonnie turned back to look around the room. After clearing it out, it was big and it was light. It wasn't below ground, as she knew some mammals hated that. She silently vowed to herself that whoever would be staying with her would have a wonderful time.

"Are you looking forward to this new mammal?"

Bonnie smiled, turning down to face Judy. "Yes, I am," she said back. "Yes I am!" And she was. The same maternal instincts that had been deprived these last months would be filled in. She hoped that by the end of this, the child would love her as much as his real mother, and Judy and her other kits like brothers and sisters. After all, she was a Hopps, and her father had told her many times that hospitality was her biggest duty.

"Can I go pick him up from the station?" Judy asked.

"Ask Pop-pop," Bonnie replied. "He may take you there in the truck, and you can take him in when the train comes in."

"I heard that they're coming in on the slip coach," Judy replied, and a pang of worry came over Bonnie. Two lines came through Bunnyburrow, one a branch line that connected to the main from Zootopia's Ramsmoor station at Woolpack; the other the mainline from Zootopia Central. While you could catch the branch line shuttle to Woolpack junction and catch an express to Ramsmoor, most trains on the central mainline didn't stop when travelling down from Zootopia, instead releasing a slip coach. It wouldn't be an issue, bar the fact that the neighbourhoods around Central and the mainline were filled with predators.

"It doesn't matter, Judy," Bonnie replied. In any case, even those areas still had more prey than preds, and it wasn't like the smartest kid would be one of the latter, would it?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**.**

The truck shook and rumbled as it drove down the road towards the station. Behind it, a great cloud of both dust and oily smoke was being kicked up, the latter a given considering that fuel rationing had led to a shortage of diesel. Thankfully being both on a farm and in a family of several hundred had its advantages, including enough used cooking oil to permit a few pleasure runs here and there. Then again, they were a lot rarer than before which only increased the novelty.

Judy loved sitting in the truck as it drove along. Beside her, Pop-Pop was standing tall and proud, hand on the gear stick as he shifted it up and down to traverse the widing country lanes. Everything shook with the vibration of the engine and the skitter of the wheels as they passed over the bare ground.

"What kind of mammal is he going to be?" Judy asked, as she looked up and smiled at her grandfather.

"A fine, young, clever prey mammal!" he said back, turning his eyes onto the road. Judy smiled back in return, she enjoyed it when he was like this. Happy. Smiling. Not berating her for her non-bunny ways or for not being a proper young lady. It was so much better than when he was mad, talking about those evil Chompers and how they were all out to eat them, his cane waving about in the air and ready to come down on someone.

"Do you know what type?" Judy asked. She'd read about and seen pictures of all sorts of different mammals in the big city of Zootopia, many of which she'd never seen before. Giant elephants and tall giraffes and gazelles and moose and hippos and rhinos and all sorts. There were also the predators, which she really didn't know much about. Pop-Pop had always warned her about them. How they were evil, how they used to eat mammals like her and how they still wanted to. He talked at great lengths about the worst of the worst. Foxes. The red devils as he called them, who were sneaky and cruel. Who would ruin the lives of everyone they could sweet talk, and who were vain and untrustworthy. Once, when he'd shown Judy his old knights uniform (and oh, did he talk about how great the ' _Knights of the Muzzle_ ' were and how he wished Judy, and everyone else, could join), he'd pointed to the tassel on top of the helmet and said that in his dreams it was a fox tail. 'Rather than care about other mammals, it's all those horrible things care about!', he'd waxed. While Judy had at first been happy that he was happy, talking about how great it would be to cut one off and fly it on his helmet, Judy couldn't help but see that something was off.

In school, her teachers had been teaching her something very different. While at home she'd learnt about the evil of the predators and the nobleness of the knights, her school had taken the line that it was the other way around. Pop-Pop's noble stories of ridding a mammal of its tail had been filled with the happiness of good defeating evil, but their counterparts at school were of evil defeating good. Warnings and sad tales of poor predators rounded up and attacked for no good reason. Of the Knights marching through towns and tearing up families. She'd learnt there that predators had long ago stopped eating other mammals, and were no more likely to 'chomp' than a sheep or bunny.

Moreover, there were some vile mammals in her class, both predator and prey. One fox, Gideon Grey (who certainly lived up to the 'red devil' moniker), had bullied many of the smaller children including her, despite her many attempts to stand up to him. There was also Doug, a ram who was equally as mean as Gideon, and who enjoyed throwing water or flour all over others and just laughing at them. But while Gideon had calmed down a lot a year or so ago, and Doug had carried on regardless, there was one thing that had linked both of them. That smile, that sneer, that glee. Judy had called it the look of the bully, and she saw her Pop-Pop wear it as he spun his stories.

When she'd asked Pop-Pop about this, he'd gone into a terrifying rage about 'the Chomper conspiracy' and 'race traitors' before threatening to beat it out of her. Judy hadn't bothered to ask him about things after that, instead coming to the conclusion that there must be both 'good' and 'bad' predators and prey, and that the schools were teaching her about one set and her grandfather the other.

"…I said, I don't know yet," Pop-Pop eventually replied, breaking Judy out of her train of thought. Judy flinched back a bit as he said it, knowing that it was the kind of voice he'd use if he were about to get mad. Judy didn't like it when he got mad, so she chose to stay quiet. Instead, she looked out of the window. They'd left the dirt track and were on the hard road now, moving along as they approached the station. Along her side ran two whitewashed fences, a single set of rails snaking through in between. Soon, they were passing the tall mast of a set of signals, as the streak of a much larger set of tracks began to appear in the distance. There were other mammals too, walking or driving along the road, all coming to pick up the city children.

Finally, the soft rumble of tarmac under the wheels turned into the crunch of gravel, as the truck slowly stopped in front of the worn wooden station. The engine turned off and there was the click of the door, as her grandfather got out. Judy followed him, jumping out of her side of the car before quickly feeling the tight squeeze of paws around her own. Almost immediately, her grandfather was pulling her out of the carpark and towards the main building. A quick look to her left and she realized why. It was the Greys, the foxes standing there and talking to a family of bobcats. Judy looked on as Gideon spotted her and gave her a small wave before his mother, her eyes wide as she saw Pop-Pop, put her arm around him and pulled him in. 'Must be scared of him,' Judy thought, and with good reason. If there were good and bad predators, then Gideon was most likely on the bad side, which meant it could be his tail flying up on a certain helmet. Still, he did seem like he was trying to be sorry. Then again, she knew that he could easily be faking it. After all, if he was a bad fox once that would mean he could be sneaky enough to pretend to be a good one.

Her thoughts trailed off as she walked into the station. Past the end of a small platform that attached to the little branch line, a small tank engine steaming in place with two bored looking donkeys in the cab, and then up the steps and through the doors. She was led past the ticket office and through the waiting room, all the old travel posters replaced with ones that warned her not to talk about army secrets or to save fuel and food, before they exited out onto the platform.

Many more mammals were there, including the leaders of all the big farms in the region. Many had one or two of their elder kids with them, and most were just waiting around and making small talk. Judy looked around to see if any of her friends were present, though it didn't seem like it. Pop-Pop, meanwhile, seemed to have many friends here, and he was already leading her over to them. She always had trouble telling them apart, but he could recognise them perfectly and immediately began to talk about boring adult stuff. Things about crop harvests, trouble with the land girls who'd come in from the city to help in the fields, issues with supply shortages and all manner of other things she couldn't understand. Letting go of his paw, she squatted down on her feet and looked out across the barren tracks. Four sets of two metal rails separated her from the other platform, which was empty of mammals. Attached to its opposite edge was another little platform, facing the other way, and as she peered she just about saw a small track leading from it and disappearing off into the fields beyond. The adults were still talking about boring stuff so Judy, waiting for the right moment, gently tapped her grandfather's legs before saying she was going to sit up on the bridge. He rolled his eyes and waved her off, though not before ordering her to come down the moment she saw the train coming. Judy nodded, before hopping off. Up the stairs and onto the little bridge that spanned the tracks. She walked until she was halfway across before she sat down, dangling her legs through some gaps in the metal and letting them swing in the wind. In front of her, the two outer tracks merged into the two inner ones, as did those behind her, and the two tracks then sailed off, together, into the distance as they gleamed in the bright morning sun.

.

"So..." One of the bunnies in attendance, Harry Lopp, said. "It seems like you get the smartest of the bunch?"

"That's right," Otto said proudly. "My son-in-law fought valiantly and put himself in the line of fire, to let thousands escape. As I said before, I chose him well, and I can't wait to congratulate him when he gets back."

"Though not before chastising him for fighting for the enemy," Bill Cottontail cut in. Otto turned to face him, blinking a few times as his face began to turn red, only to be cut in again. "I suppose you'll be stripping him of his medal for that."

Otto snorted, his teeth grinding against each other, as he turned away. "Don't take up that cheek with me!" He warned, "and respect your elders!"

Bill smiled and shook his head slowly. "I wish I could, but you make it so very, very hard for me."

"While you make despairing at the current depravity of the newer generation very, very, easy," Otto Hopps countered.

"When you say that, it has a strange way of turning from an insult to a compliment. You know that?" Bill parried, this time drawing the full ire of Otto.

The Hopps patriarch turned to face his younger counterpart in full, his cane rattling along the stone platform as he fought the temptation to give the young upstart a good beating. He was just preparing to release a long chain of expletives from his mouth, when a gentle tap on his shoulder drew his attention away.

"Calm down, Otto," Paul Skipson said. "You know he likes to get a rise out of you. Fills his days up, given that he has so few grandkits to look after."

Otto let a small smirk grow across his muzzle, from which an almost undetectable chuckle escape. "Indeed," he replied. "I'm more convinced that somewhere back in his bloodline, a fox got in. It would explain why he's so eager to defend those devil spawn!"

.

"Right…" Paul said slowly. "In any case, you're getting top pick of this lot, aren't you?"

"Yes, that's right!" Otto proudly announced. He looked around the group, noticing a few had already stopped talking to look at him. He cleared his throat, before shouting out louder. "ATTENTION! ATTENTION!" That got their attention, as they all turned to face him. "As per our agreement, I am getting the best pick, while you lot are getting the chaff! You hear!"

There was a soft murmur of agreement in the crowd, before one of them spoke up. "How will we know which one is the smartest?"

"They'll have a child minder, won't they?" Otto said. "We ask her who's the politest, smartest, most literate out of the bunch, and I get him. You lot get the rest!"

"Sounds fair," the same bunny replied, quickly followed by all the rest. Soon, the discussion died down back into general business talk and chit-chat. Meanwhile, up on the bridge, more and more children were settling down with Judy. Talking, joking, looking out into the distance. There was a soft huff at one stage as another little tank engine steamed towards the other side of the station on the branch line. It was only carrying a few wagons of goods, and it quickly crossed over the four tracks in the station and onto the other side, where it joined the branch again and carried on, on its way. After that, there was a quiet for a short while before, all of a sudden, all the children got up and raced down, screaming that the real train was coming. Everyone went silent and peered over the platform, as the heavy huffing of an express approached.

Judy stood on the edge of the platform, bouncing up and down on her two hind paws. Looking to her right, her ears tilting so that they could focus on the sound of the engine, she spotted the cloud of smoke off in the distance. It grew as the train got closer and closer, the sight of a dirty engine now clear in view. However, as it came, some of the kids began talking to each other, noticing that something was off.

"It's going too fast," one of them said.

"How's it going to stop?" another asked.

Judy just giggled, knowing what was really going on. Two sharp whistles cut through the air, the sound of not only the pistons but also the rattle of the wheels on the track now clearly ringing out. She had a huge grin on her face as the train roared through the station, giving the crowd a long whistle as it went, before the rattle of the carriages in tow followed. Even though the train was one track away from them, rather than on the line right next to the platform, dresses fluttered and even a few hats were carried off heads in its wake. Still more lines of carriages went by, all covered in coal dust and grime, but from the sight of it packed with screaming and hollering children. Kits, kids, cubs, lambs, calves, pups and many other sorts, all pulling their windows down to wave and shout.

"Hi there!" Judy shouted, jumping up and waving back at them. Then, almost as fast as it had come, the train left. Its last carriage whistled past and shot off into the distance, still carrying on down the line.

"Wait, what?" another bunny kit asked. Judy turned to face him, before tapping him on the shoulder. He was one of the Lopps, a family that it was joked never left sight of their farm or the spire of Bunnyburrow church. While it was a joke, it wasn't far from the truth, so Judy guessed that this was likely his first time ever visiting the station.

"I heard they're coming in the slip car," Judy said.

"The what?" he asked.

Judy grabbed his paw and leant out over the tracks, pointing down along it towards Zootopia. "The slip car," she clarified, as the Lopp kit set his eyes on a stray carriage trundling down the line.

He blinked a few times, almost as if he wanted to make sure that he wasn't seeing things, before whichever adult was looking after him grabbed his paw and pulled him back. Judy felt a tight grip around her shoulder too, and immediately jumped backwards before her Pop-Pop even had a chance to yank her back. She sighed with relief as she did so, happy that she hadn't made him cross or given him a reason to be mad at her. She didn't want the first thing her new friend's first sight of Bunnyburrow being her getting punished.

There was a soft squeal as the carriage rolled up in front of them all, a last metallic shriek coming out as the brakes were closed and the whole thing ground to a halt. Just like the carriages that had been carrying on with the main train, shrieks and cries of excited children were coming out of this one. For the first time, Judy got a good look through the windows and realised just how many different types of mammal there were. She saw different types of canines, many that she'd never even seen a picture of before. Some had golden fur, which she guessed meant they were jackals. Others had fur that was painted in lots of beautiful shades of brown, orange, white, black and red. Then there were some big cats. She couldn't help but feel nervous as she saw both some lions and some tigers, the first time she'd even seen those species in the fur. Further along and already getting out, there was a huge hippo. He looked younger than she did, but he was still larger than pretty much all the mammals around bar the horses. As he got out, the wolf guard who'd unlocked the doors jogged along with his keys and the clicking of latches rang out as the other compartments emptied. This time she didn't even give her Pop-Pop a chance, shuffling back to let them all have plenty of space to get out and stretch their legs. She looked up to him and smiled.

"Which one are we taking?"

"I don't know yet," he replied back, as he scanned around for the childminder. "Though that hippo would be very useful on the farm. Let's just find whoever was looking after them." After a moment he spotted her, a llama, at the back, talking to the guard who'd brought the carriage in and had just got back from unlocking the doors. "Hello! Hello there!"

Her ears picked up and she turned to face him. "Yes?"

"I am Otto Hopps," he said introducing himself. "I run the Hopps family farm and, as per a gentleman's agreement, I am to foster the smartest, most adept mammal that you brought with us. Do you understand?"

"Uh, yes," she said after a bit. "Do you understand that I've only known these children for the last few hours or so? I may not be…"

"Quit your stalling woman!" Otto barked. "In that time, surely you've spotted at least one or two children that stand out. Children that I'd be honoured to foster. To raise with the right values for this world, however much they may be lacking in others."

"What about Nicholas?"

Both the llama, Otto and Judy turned to face the new voice, as the guard turned to face him. Otto pulled his nose up in disgust, glaring at the large black wolf, all dressed up in a dirty uniform. What he hated the most about him was his strange left eye. It didn't focus on anything, instead it just drifted in its socket, and straight away Otto new that he was blind in it. The elderly bunny imagined the ways he'd acquired the injury. A poor harried prey mammal who he'd harassed or tried to assault might have had the courage to fight back at him. He might have done it himself, to escape the war service. Maybe he was born with it, a likely result of just how inbred city predators were these days.

"What would you know about a kid being intelligent or capable?" Otto asked skeptically.

The wolf looked up and down at Otto for a bit, before shaking his head. "Forget it."

"I don't see why," the llama interrupted as her ears perked up. "I mean, he was asking you all those questions about how the carriage worked and what your job entailed. I mean, he might be a favourite but thinking about it he was the only kid that really stood out to me."

"Miss, ugh…" the wolf began, turning to look at Otto again before turning back to face her. Yet she interrupted.

"In any case, we're either going to do this all randomly, or we could make a headway in sorting these poor kids out."

"But…" he began, only to be cut off by Otto.

"SHUT IT!" he shouted. "How dare you cut off a fine lady like that! Regardless, I've made up my mind. I'll be happy to foster this fine mammal! Do you have the paperwork?"

"Sure," she replied, as she pulled out a clipboard and sorted through the papers, before presenting Otto with the right form and a pen. He signed immediately, before handing the documents back and smiling. "So, where is he? Where is this Nicholas?"

"Here sir!"

Otto's ears rose, and he looked down the platform. He smiled as he waited for the kid to emerge from the sea of moving mammals, only for that smile to vanish as he laid eyes on the smiling kit that stepped forward. Dressed in a hardy fabric suit, and with two little suitcases in each paw, he had cunning green eyes, pointed black ears, long murderous claws, and red fur in the devil's own image. The elderly bunny immediately felt a burning rage begin to grow within him as he looked at the fox in front of him.

"Who are you?" he asked. "Because I was expecting Nicholas. Smart, capable, Nicholas!"

The kit looked around, before shrugging. "My name is Nicholas sir. Friends call me Nick. Nick Wilde…"

"And the other Nicholas?"

The child's eyes widened. "I think I'm the only one sir, or at least…"

"Is this the child you were referring to?" he snapped at the llama, who nodded slowly, suddenly seeming a lot more nervous. Down by Otto's side, Judy couldn't help but noticed that she suddenly seemed just as worried as the wolf. She reached down to her documents and opened up the one he'd just signed, revealing red fox as the species under Nicholas' name. Judy meanwhile turned back to face the fox, Nick, and she gulped as she looked at him. He didn't look like an evil fox, but the way he was treating her grandpa was certain to make him mad, and Judy didn't want him to meet her grandpa when he was mad.

"Yes," she slowly said. "But…"

"Come off it!" came a shout from behind the whole group. It was Bill Warren, along with the rest of all of Otto's current and former friends. The old buck trembled with anger as they looked on, giant grins on their muzzle, almost certainly straining to keep in their laughs. "You know the bet Hopps!" he said. "You get the smartest kid, which I think we've all agreed on is that little fox there! Don't we boys?"

A chorus of agreement came out from them, and Otto turned back to face the llama, then the wolf guard and then the accursed, devil-borne fox. He scanned him from head to toe, before making up his mind. "It seems I'm honour-bound to take him, so I will. I'm a Hopps, and I refuse to do anything that breaks my honour as such!"

A round of cheering went up from the crowd as they turned and went back into the station, ready to pick their own charges. Already some other mammals had brought out sets of neatly stacked forms and children were being allocated to new families. Otto Hopps meanwhile just glowered, his cane paw trembling ever so slightly. Judy just looked around and shivered, knowing full well how mean her Pop-Pop could be when he was this mad. He began shaking with rage, the base of his cane rattling along the platform like a pair of teeth chattering in the cold. Looking over at the fox, she saw that even he was worried, likely working out that something was wrong.

"Master Wilde," the guard wolf said. "You said you always wanted a go up in an engine. Why don't you ask the driver up in the tank? Remember to say old Gruff sent you."

Nick nodded before jogging off to the front of the carriage. The little engine that had been stabled on the other side of the station building had come around, backing onto the front of the slip carriage and already linking itself up. The guard watched as he came up to the cab and spoke to the driver, before hopping up in. There was a long whistle, at which point the guard hopped back into his cabin to unlock the brake, before jumping off to stand by the chaperone.

"Listen," he said, kneeling down to look Otto square in the face. "It's clear you don't like predators. It's clear you likely have an irrational hatred of foxes. Now, he is a nice kit, and I don't think it would be fair to make him stay with someone who sees red whenever he sees his species."

Otto blinked a few times, before he whipped up his cane, pointing it at the guard's face. "Firstly," he seethed, "you filthy mutt, you! You need to learn some manners. Don't speak to a civilized prey mammal unless spoken to and always call them sir or ma'am!" The wolf blinked a few times, before nodding with a grimace. "Secondly, no funny business or I'll poke your other eye out! If you haven't learned your lesson about harassing prey after losing the one, you deserve to lose the other! Do you understand?"

The guard scowled, but nodded slowly, before turning to face the llama who spoke up. "Listen, surely there are better options? Other families who‒"

"If I do not do this, my honour is tarnished," Otto plowed through the camelid's statement. "Regardless, none of those families will volunteer to take on the evacuee that they've decided to force onto me. Finally, I don't think your superior would be happy if you came back and said that you ripped up an agreement, particularly when it comes from someone who's evidently very successful at both business and raising a family!"

The llama nodded slowly, before turning to the guard next to him. "I'm afraid he's right. Legally, that mammal is his to look after, and there's nothing I can do to stop that unless the contract is broken or he decides to relinquish him. Mr. Hopps, it seems you are dead set in your ways, and so be it. But I'll make sure that that child knows to contact the police if you ever do anything vicious to him. Personally, I hope this whole affair changes you far more than it changes him."

Otto nodded slowly. "Fair is fair. Let's pick him up and get this over with." At that, he turned, leading Judy away. She skipped along next to him, quite confused at the whole matter. She knew he hated the idea of having to look after a fox, and while the other families evidently wanted him to look after such a mammal to make him mad, she didn't know why something couldn't be worked out. Surely her father could give him to the Grey's and they could look after him? However, as they exited the waiting room, her heart fell somewhat as he saw that family walk off with a pair of sandy coloured foxes in tow. Looking around, she couldn't see any of the predator families, and guessed that they must have left too. Two sharp whistles caught her attention and, looking forward, she spotted Nick operating the small tank engine's whistle. It was parked back in its bay, the slip carriage safely removed from the mainline, and the little fox seemed to have the biggest smile she'd ever seen on his face. His eyes turned to meet her, eyes that she couldn't help but notice were more vibrant than any she could remember, and he waved. He hopped down from the engine, pausing as the chaperone came over to whisper into his ear, before he carried on walking over to her.

"Hi!" He said.

"Hello," Judy replied, "my name's…"

"Don't talk to it!"

Both she and him looked up to see Otto sneering at them. He shook his head before pointing with his cane over to the truck. "In. Now. Fox first, then Judy." She looked at him and him at her, and they followed his command without a word. She turned back to see the chaperone and the wolf guard come together, talking to each other and looking over at the fox, both looking very worried. Her Pop-Pop turned his head to look at them and scowl, before he turned back to the truck. He unlocked it and Judy scrabbled in after Nick. As Otto went around to the other side of the truck and got in, both children somehow knew that this would be a very uncomfortable ride home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

.

_-Five hours earlier-_

_._

"You'll be good?"

"Yes, I will Mum," Nicholas replied, nodding as hard as he could. His smile faded somewhat as he saw hers break, a few tears dripping down her face. She leant in and brought her paws around him, holding him tight.

"And you'll write every week, and post the letter every Monday morning," she said again, sniffing as she did so.

"And you'll write back, and send me any news about Dad," Nick replied, beginning to cry too. He held her tight and buried his muzzle into her chest, silently telling himself that he was too grown up for this but never doing anything about it. When he'd been told that he'd be leaving Zootopia because of the bombings, he'd been excited. He'd never been out of the city before, while the number of times he'd been out of Happytown itself could be counted on both paws. Learning that he'd be going to the countryside though had filled him up with a great sense of adventure, the sort he'd always got reading his scouting books and comics. He'd already imagined all the things he'd be doing, such as fishing and hiking and eating fresh fruit. He loved that he'd finally be having adventures just like Dad had been, ever since he joined the navy. But now, standing on the platform as huge crowds of mammals walked around, the other side of the coin was catching up. Every day of his life, he'd had one of his parents to talk to, to tell jokes to, to tell him jokes back in return, to hug and kiss him when he'd hurt himself, and to cuddle up next to on stormy nights. But now, he'd be away from them for weeks or months, and he was already feeling very scared.

His mother, Mary, felt just the same way. No part of her wanted her precious child to be in the city, now that bombs were predicted to fall any day now. She told herself over and over that the fresh air and green space would do him a world of good, while he'd make new friends who'd last him a lifetime. But still, he was the tiny kit she'd held in both paws for the first time eight years ago. His eyes closed, his tail short and as far from bushy as you could make it without being bald and his whole body covered in grey down that exposed the pink skin around his almost non-existent muzzle. He'd grown so much since then, and she knew he could probably look after himself just fine, but she still felt her maternal instincts commanding her to protect him as if he were that helpless little thing. The idea of being unable to see him for months tore at her heart, while a dark part of her brain whispered fears about him falling into the paws of those mammals who did terrible things to young children, or those others who lived out in the country and still thought that they lived in the savage ages. She shook her head at the last one. The cinemas had played the news clips of the terrible camps that had been set up by the Cud Reich, and the evil things that were going on. She'd gone most her life without her species and its 'reputation' coming up in any way that couldn't be described as just being paranoid, while the way her country acted in defence of her fellow predators across the sea made her prouder to be a Zootopian than she'd ever been. 'No,' she told herself, 'no-one's going to hurt my little Nicky because he's a fox.' But still, that left many other gnawing fears and worries, that came out in her tears.

The two foxes, a vixen and her kit, just held each other, rocking and crying as they waited, up until the shrill cry of one of the chaperone's who'd be escorting Nick called them to attention. Mary stood up and dusted down her dress, while Nick did the same to his suit. It was the last thing his father had made for him before he left to start his training, and was both tough and warm enough for the country and smart enough so that no-one would think that he was a little ruffian or delinquent. John Wilde and Mary had always pushed Nick to read a new book every week and to help them with the maths that needed to be done when running their store. His teachers always said he was one of their favourite students, and his parents wouldn't have it any other way.

"I heard you're going to Bunnyburrow," Mary asked.

"I read about it, for you," Nick replied back, trying to make her proud. "It's two-hundred and… uh,"

"I don't think you need to know exactly how far away it is."

"Okay, I… Is that a slip car?"

Nick's sudden change in conversation woke Mary up from her emotional squalor, and she smiled as she saw her son look at the carriage attached to the back of the train. A smile grew on his face too and he pulled out a little book, which he always carried with him when he went walking about the city, before jotting down the numbers printed on the side of the car. He turned back to face her and giggled. "Duke's going to be so angry when I tell him I was in a slip car!"

Mary chose to forget that she'd told Nick not to hang out with that child, and nodded back. "Yes, he will be. Now remember, always be polite and remember to show those around you your name slip."

Nick held up the little label that was attached around his neck in response, before jumping up into one of the compartments at the back of the coach. Almost immediately after, the guard, a large wolf with a strange eye, was coming down and slamming the doors shut. Each one pounded closed, the sound echoing around the station, before he finished and jumped into the back. Two flags out and his whistle in his mouth, he signalled the all clear up ahead and blew. The ghostly scream of the locomotive's whistle called back, before it bellowed out a deep puff. There was a clatter as the chains between each carriage tightened, and the train began its long journey north. The windows of each and every compartment was open, and all the children were leaning out and waving. Mary, seeing Nick, waved back. Blowing a kiss, and with tears pouring out of her eyes, she watched her son disappear off into the distance.

.

The train out of sight, Mary stepped back and looked around. Zootopia Central was one big hall covered by an arched roof which, when it had been new, had been crystal clear. But now, with years of use and cleaners a luxury that couldn't be afforded in war time, it (and every other surface in the station) was greyed by black soot. Taking in a deep breath, she turned to begin the walk back to her house. Months before, it had been filled with the laughter of both her, her son, and her husband. Now though, it was empty and cold. She'd only have an hour there, before she had to get back to work. Those army uniforms weren't going to sew themselves.

She walked on, out from the platforms and onto the concourse. Already, new lines of mothers and children were assembling, ready to get on the next set of trains that arrived. Looking at them, she didn't notice where she was going until she slammed into something. Falling painfully onto her tail, she looked up to see a confused looking giraffe, tear stains trailing down from her eyes.

"Just come from the…?" she began, trailing off as Mary nodded in return.

There was a pause, before Mary held onto one of the giraffe's legs tight and burst into tears. She meanwhile sat down, her ungainly legs crossing around the tiny fox as she put her arms around Mary. Holding the vixen tight, just little the little toy doll her daughter had been grasping, she too let the tears flow out.

In a sea of mammals, two who were as different as could be shared a quiet moment of grief, each one knowing more about what the other was going through than anyone else in the world.

.

.

.

.

Nick's journey had been a fantastic one. The carriage he'd been in had been full of other children, including his friend Finnick, who were all carrying their own books and comics and even a few sweets. While many of them had been sad at leaving their parents, just like he had been, they'd soon been joking and laughing and even singing. It helped that several of the kids had been in a church choir and, once they'd been taught some fun songs, everyone had joined along.

.

_Knitler… has on-ly got, one, ball...!_

_Goatling… has got two, but they're ve-ry small…_

_Llamler… has something sim'lar!_

_But poor old Go-atz has no balls at-all._

_._

And when Nick said everyone, he meant everyone. The chaperone, the guard, the crew coming down the train to give everyone some food. Nick had only ever sung before in assembly at school and at church, and he'd always found it a chore. Here though, it lifted his spirits and made him smile. He thought to himself that this must be what the camp songs he'd read about in his scout book were like. He'd been so looking forward to joining his local troop, though the war had put a stop to all that. A smile on his mouth and laughing out loud, he'd been waiting on the edge of his seat for the next song to start.

Already one of the choir boys, a wolf who'd howled at the end of the last song, was saying that he knew a funny song and was laying out the tune.

.

_Dum… de-dum, dee-dum, de-yum… de-yum, de-dum, de-dum, de-dummm … de-um, de-yum, de-yum, de-dum, de-dooooo-da…_

_._

_"_ _Mammals will please refrain,_

_From flushing toilets while the train,_

_Is standing in the station…"_

_._

Nick tried to sing, though he found it hard as he giggled. Looking out of his compartment and into the corridor, he spotted the chaperone, her eyes wide, jogging up to stop the song, probably after deciding it was just too rude. Still, there was time for the rest of the verse.

.

_"_ _We encourage constipation,_

_While the train is in the station,_

_Moonlight always make me think of you…"_

.

The song stopped as the chaperone barged into the compartment in front of Nick and pounded on the wall, ordering the wolf to stop singing the song at once.

"Spoilsport," came a mutter from Nick's side, and he looked over to see Finnick pouting. All the other mammals on the train were already dying down as the tune was lost, before a new voice spoke up.

"I know a good song, which I sing a lot."

It was the wolf guard, who'd walked up the carriage and was right across from Nick. "I'll go first, and you lot follow, okay?"

Nick and the other kids in his compartment nodded their heads, as did those in other parts of the carriage.

.

"Whistle while you work…"

_'_ _Whistle while you work…'_

"Knitler is a twerp!"

_"_ _Knitler is a twerp!"_

"He's half barmy, so's his army!"

_'_ _He's half barmy, so's his army!'_

"Whistle while you work!"

_'_ _Whistle while you work!'_

.

All the children burst into fits of laughter, before the choir boys and everyone else restarted the song.

.

_'_ _Whistle while you work,_

_Knitler is a twerp,_

_He's half barmy, so's his army!_

_Whistle while you work!'_

.

As the song ended, the guard turned around and headed back towards his compartment at the rear of the train. Finnick was still half-singing the song and giggling as he did it, but Nick's curiosity had suddenly piqued.

"I'm gonna see what the guard is doing," he said to his friend, before looking around and slipping off his seat. Leaving his compartment, Nick went out into the corridor, following the guard past the door to the rear toilet and into the luggage compartment at the back. Sneaking forward on his toe pads and careful to make no noise that could have been heard, even if the rattle of the carriage wasn't there, the curious kit slipped into the coach's back compartment and held his breath as he stared up at the large wolf's back.

"You know I can smell you?"

Nick jolted out of his sly posture and stiffened up as the guard turned to face him. The little kit's ears drooping back and his tail lowering itself against the floor, he gulped as the huge guard looked over at him. "I'm… I'm… sorry, sir, I," Nick tried to say, only stuttering, before the wolf interrupted him.

"Don't really see anything for you to be sorry about."

Nick immediately relaxed and smiled, knowing he wasn't in much trouble, before looking around.

"So, this is where you work?"

The rear cabin was relatively empty, though there were several piles of luggage stored here and there. Like Nick, most children were carrying all their luggage with them, although unlike him with his suitcases, they had wrapped everything up in parcel paper or old newspapers. In one corner, by a window, was a large lever, some cupboards and a seat, which the wolf was currently settling down into.

"'Bout right," he chuckled, as he patted his lap. Nick hopped up onto him and watched as his paws opened the window. After a quick peek out, he smiled and waved to it, and Nick peered out as well. The roar of the wind was flowing past and, as Nick's head peered out, his ears were flattened as the gale hit them. His eyes flinching closed, he managed to open them slightly and look forward. The train was racing along a corner, the sight of the locomotive clear in the distance. Nick kept on looking at it, and the great plume of smoke and steam streaming from its chimney, up until a sudden pain stabbed him in the eye.

"YIP!" Nick cried as he ducked back in and rubbed his eyes furiously. Blinking a few times, he cussed under his breath until the pain stopped, before glaring up at the chuckling guard.

"Bit of soot," the Wolf said with a shrug. "Get it all the time working on the trains."

"Oh," Nick muttered back.

"Why, oh?" the guard asked, and Nick looked up at him and smiled.

"I want to be an engine driver when I grow up!" Nick proudly said.

The wolf smiled, chuckling as he rubbed Nick's head. "So, did I! I know plenty of nocturnal mammals like you who work on the night trains, or on the track crews or in signalling. The railways can't get enough of them!"

"Are you going to be one soon?"

The wolf paused slightly, before sighing and pointing at his unfocused eye. "Cricket ball put paid to that dream. If you want to play a sport with your new people up wherever you're staying, try and avoid that one."

"Oh," Nick replied, before putting one of his paws on his shoulders. "I'm sorry."

The guard shrugged, before smiling. "It's really not that bad. I enjoy my job, and here, I'll show you how all this works and all my tools."

"REALLY!?" Nick asked, as the wolf nodded back. Over the rest of the trip, the guard told Nick about all the jobs he had to do and showed him all his equipment. Flags, whistles, detonators and sand buckets. As they stopped at some of the stations, he let Nick signal to the engine driver with the flags, before talking more about all the things he'd seen and stories he'd heard. Nick had listened to every bit of it, half the time interrupting to tell the guard about what he knew, which was almost always correct. The hours whittled along, as stories were told from both sides and promises were made. Sooner than either would have hoped, Nick was watching as the wolf undid a previously locked panel to reveal a small lever. He'd already been up to the other end of the carriage to lock the doors, and had checked with the llama escorting the kids to make sure that everyone was in. Looking out of his window, he smiled to Nick and waved down the lever. "The honour's yours. Pull it when I say so."

Nick's eyes went wide and he grasped the lever, trembling with anticipation and waiting for the signal.

"There's the sign!" the guard said. "Now!"

Nick pulled back at the stiff lever, at first getting nowhere but then, as he put his back into it, pulling it hard. There was a solid  _Clunk_ , and the carriage shook as it began to slow down. The rhythmic clattering of the wheels over the rails began to decrease in frequency, as the guard walked over to the large brake lever and began operating it.

"You better get back to your compartment and make sure all your luggage is still there," he said. "And tell you what, if you ask nicely and said that Gruff said you could, I'm pretty sure the driver of the shunter at the station will let you ride on the footplate."

Nick, suddenly trembling with excitement from the idea, raced off to his seat. Barging back into his compartment, he leapt onto his still empty seat and began gathering up his luggage.

"How much trouble you in?"

Nick's eyes went wide, and he turned to face Finnick. "Trouble?"

"Yeh," Finnick shot back. "What else were you gone for?"

"I wasn't in trouble," Nick said back. "The guard showed me around and even let me release the coach!"

Finnick blinked a few times, before just shaking his head, shrugging and looking away. Nick meanwhile checked both of his suitcases. The locks were still on, and since he had the keys in his suit, he knew all his things were safe. The other children were getting louder and, looking out of the window, Nick saw hundreds of mammals, mostly bunnies and other country prey ones, all waving back at them.

"See you 'round, Slick," Finnick said, his voice gathering the other fox's attention.

"You too, Finn," Nick replied, before grabbing his luggage and waiting for the guard to run past and unlock the door, before jumping out. Everything was in chaos, as the city children walked out to meet the country families. Hopping out, he looked around and paused, unsure what to do. The guard raced back past Nick, and the little fox realised something. When he got back to the city, there was no way someone like Duke would believe that any of this story was true. However, feeling his train spotters book in his suit jacket, Nick realised that an autograph would be the perfect way to both remember this and prove the annoying weasel wrong.

Wandering down the platform, Nick made out the guard, the chaperone and two bunnies all talking to each other. He paused, his ears up, as he listened in.

"What about Nicholas?" he heard the guard say, before the older bunny of the pair turned to face him. He said something Nick couldn't hear, before the wolf shrugged and turned away, a funny look on his face.

Nick slowly walked closer, picking up bits and pieces of what the llama and the bunny were saying, before seeing him sign something on a piece of paper and then speak. "So, where is he? Where is this Nicholas?"

Nick's ears pricked as his name was said again, and he realised that this bunny was the mammal who'd be looking after him. He stood upright, like his father always told him too, and spoke out. "Here sir!"

The bunny, who seemed to be very old, turned to face Nick and at first looked around, as if unable to see him. Nick stepped forward, and smiled as the one on the bunny faded, replaced with a much less friendly look.

"Who are you?" he asked, "because I was expecting Nicholas. Smart, capable, Nicholas!"

Nick paused, thinking back to the train ride. He didn't think there was anyone else by his name on it, so he shrugged and replied. "My name is Nicholas sir. Friends call me Nick. Nick Wilde…"

"And the other Nicholas?" the bunny asked. Nick paused as he heard him, his strange voice sounding both a bit frightened and a bit angry at the same time. 'Was he waiting for someone else?' he thought, before looking up at the rabbit. His eyes were glaring, his nose twitching, and Nick decided he better answer fast.

"I think I'm the only one sir, or at least…"

"Is this the child you were referring to?" the bunny suddenly asked the llama, who nodded back. Nick looked away as the bunny checked over the forms he'd been shown, instead looking at the little grey bunny by his side. She looked about his age, but she seemed very worried. Not scared, Nick thought, but worried, as if she thought something bad was going to happen to someone.

Suddenly, there was a laugh, and a whole load of other rabbits were behind the old one, pointing and laughing at him. They talked on and off about something to do with a bet or something, before the sound of Nick's name pricked his ears. Looking up, Nick realized it was the guard.

"You said you always wanted a go up in an engine." He said, "Why don't you ask the driver up in the tank? Remember to say old Gruff sent you."

Nick nodded before jogging off to the front of the carriage. The little engine that had been stabled on the other side of the station building had come around, backing onto the front of the slip carriage and already linking itself up. Looking up at it, he waved at the two donkeys who were sitting there before saying that 'old Gruff' had sent him. They both smiled at that, and waved Nick up. He hopped up onto the drive plate, the hot glow of the fire washing over him, as he looked up at all the controls, most of which he could name by heart. The stoker, who'd been looking out back along the platform, turned to face Nick and smiled.

"Want to operate the whistle?"

"Yes Sir!" Nick said back, as he scrambled to the small mammals' driving platform and grabbed the chain, pulling down hard to let loose a long whistle. The driver nodded and opened up the regulator, letting the little engine and its newly attached carriage slowly move forward. The journey was very short, only getting the far enough along to move past a set of points, at which point the stoker jumped out and changed them. The driver, turning the reversing wheel, slowly backed the train off the mainline and moved it into the little platform bay on the other side of the station. It was only a tiny taste of what an engine driver did, but Nick loved every second of it and couldn't help but open the whistle up for a long victory toot-toot, his eyes narrowing and ears folding back as he did so.

Saying thanks to the two donkeys (and getting them to both sign their names in his book, right below their engine's number), he jumped out onto the platform to see the bunnies coming over, along with the llama chaperone. She came up to him, and whispered something into his ear.

"Listen," she said, "I've got a bad feeling that this person may treat you very badly. If he does, call the police. Call the police right away. You know the number?"

Nick nodded back, suddenly a bit worried given what she'd said. However, that was all gone as he saw the little bunny girl come up to meet him. She smiled, and he began to introduce himself.

"Hello," she said back, "my name's…"

"Don't talk to it!" Before she could tell him his name, she was cut off by the bunny next to her, who'd barked out the order like one of Nick's old teachers. Looking up though, Nick saw him wear a much nastier sneer than any of them had. A much nastier sneer than any he'd ever remembered seeing. "In. Now!" he ordered, pointing with his cane at a nearby truck. "Fox first, then Judy."

 _'_ _Judy…'_  Nick realised that must be the girl's name, and he looked at her. She also looked at him, but neither spoke, Nick being far too worried about the elderly bunny to say anything. Following his orders, Nick jumped into the truck and stayed silent, somehow knowing that this would be a very awkward ride to his new home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

.

The soft and rhythmic beat of the truck's engine shook all three residents of the vehicle as it trundled down the road. Gravel crunched beneath the wheels, and the rusting old suspension springs creaked and groaned as they rolled along. It was a warm day, so the windows were down to let the cool wind come in.

Looking out of them, Nick Wilde slowly thought about what had just happened. There was nothing wrong with where he'd come to, given that this was exactly what he thought Bunnyburrow would look like. Wide fields stretching out, their borders marked by shaky wooden fences and giant unkempt hedges that scratched the sides of the vehicle as they passed. His mind, instead, was focussed on what the chaperone had said to him before he left the station.

' _He may treat you very badly…_ ' ' _Call the police, right away…_ '

The way she'd said it sounded like she'd meant it. But, he thought, why would this person treat him very badly? His mind wandered as he looked over at the elderly bunny, noticing how his nose was twitching madly and how he seemed like he was ready to get into a fight at a moment's notice. Was he scared? Was he angry? At first Nick had thought he'd sounded like one of his old teachers, but they'd always shouted out 'Wilde!' Never 'Fox'. Definitely never 'It'. Looking forward once more, Nick couldn't help but remember that his parents had always taught him to never call a mammal by his or her species name. They'd said that it made the thing they were born as into an insult. It made them think that you thought their entire species was bad or something, and you saw them as nothing more than the worst of them. Nick couldn't help but think that calling someone 'It' was far, far, ruder.

A look in the other direction, and he looked at the young girl who the older bunny had taken with him. Judy, in his mind, seemed like she would be nice if her grandfather would let her be. She turned to look at him, smiling slightly before she looked up and over him, before snapping back to looking out of her window, away from him. Nick turned his gaze back to dead ahead, looking over the car's bonnet at the road out in front. There wasn't even gravel anymore, instead just bare earth which tracked off into the distance to a cluster of buildings.

"That's my farm…"

Nick turned his head to look at the elderly bunny, who paused for a second before carrying on. "Hopps family farms. Great fields, toiled by my ancestors and descendants, growing the blessed and clean fruit of the earth. Nestled in clean, virgin earth. Watered by the streams and clouds. It's something pure, fox. Something good, and honest, in this world."

Nick looked at a variety of fields and orchards, his eyes darting until he saw a field of verdant bushes, the healthy green of the leaves interspaced with hundreds of blue dots. A faint whiff, carried by the wind, entered the cabin and was pulled up by his nose, its sweetness tickling it and making his mouth water. "You grow blueberries?" he asked.

"Anything that good and honest mammals eat, I grow," the older Bunny replied innocently, before his tone changed somewhat. "Of course, there are some things I don't grow. Honest mammals can sustain themselves on what the earth provides. Do you know what dishonest, evil, impure, dirty mammals do?"

"Uh… No sir," Nick replied.

"They feast on the honest creatures that have already eaten. Bugs, filthy disease-ridden things. Fish, innocent creatures that spend their lives separated us by water, as was done by the lord during creation for a reason. Worst of all, other mammals. People who have dreams and hearts and souls. But, on this earth, millions of creatures exist that crave the flesh of the week. The young. The innocent. Of course, you already know this fox. Don't you?"

Nick gulped slightly, remembering the scary stories that his father had secretly read him at night. Of those who still thought predators were evil and needed to die. "They teach it in school, that predators like me ate others in the stone age" he nervously said, before rushing out a long addendum. "But that was thousands of years ago, and no-one I know would ever, ever, ever, ever do that!"

.

"Judy?" the old bunny asked.

"Yes Pop-Pop," she replied.

"Tell this fox what kind of mammal Otto Hopps is?"

Judy blinked a few times, thinking, before giving her answer. "A clever mammal. A good…"

"Well that's obvious, isn't it?" he scolded. "You know what I mean, don't you!"

Judy closed her eyes up, her nose twitching, before she replied. "Brave. Honest…"

There was a grunt as Otto Hopps leant over and suddenly swatted the tips of Judy's ears, sending her yelping slightly. "You stupid girl," he muttered. "Otto Hopps is a man of honour. By the agreement I made and won, I was to take in the most able and clever evacuee. Up until I can prove that a mistake has been made, I will honour that agreement. I am also a man of my word. Words I swore many years ago. Words other, weaker, traitorous mammals, have strived to rid the world of."

Nick looked over to Judy, shrugging his shoulders as if asking her what her Pop-Pop meant by this. Turning back forward, he spotted the looming hill-like burrow structure approaching, before it whipped off to the left as Otto turned the truck to the right. Bouncing over stones and grass, he pulled it up just inside a large red barn before turning the engine off. A groan and a shuffle, and he was out, his cane up and harshly pushing at Nick, ordering him to get out. After Judy, he did so, before his ears perked at a sharp " _Come_ " from Otto. Meekly following, Nick felt the cane swing around and its tip land harshly on the back of his neck, before a sharp push forced him on.

.

"I am a man of my words. I am a man of duty! Earlier, you said some words, didn't you?"

"Uh, yes," Nick said nervously, as he was forced past a set of metal lockers and into a corner. Stopping, he stood there until the push of Otto Hopps' cane forced him to shuffle even further into it, up until his nose was wedged between the two meeting walls. His ears twitched around as he heard the elderly bunny behind him shuffle about and undo some kind of lock, likely one on one of the lockers. There was a sudden gasp.

"POP-POP! YOU CAN'T‒" Judy said, before being harshly cut off.

"DON'T INTERRUPT ME GIRL!" he cried, the harsh scream of his voice making Nick tremble. The little fox knelt down, almost curling himself into a ball as some metallic clicks were hard.

"Please Sir…" Nick tried to beg, only to stop as Otto's cane came swooping down, smacking onto the top of his head and snapping. Nick screamed in pain.

Not a surprised 'Yip'.

Not a horrified call.

But rather a bloodcurdling cry of pain. The blaze of agony swam around his head, the sharp sting of the hit throbbing on his crown as he began to bawl. His eyes were closed, his fists rubbing into them as tears ran out, as Otto screamed from behind.

"HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU, YOU VILE CHOMPER PELT!" He paused for a second, taking in a deep breath, before carrying on. "I bet those degenerate scum who run this country, your school, and all the rest of it never told you how to behave when around those better than you, did they? You have no right to interrupt a pure and clean prey mammal like me, do you understand?"

"Ye…Ye… Yes sir," Nick managed to stutter out between his sobs.

"And don't you dare lie to me either. I said I am a man of my word, remember? You are not a mammal of your word, given the brazen lie you said earlier. None of your friends would ever, ever eat someone? PAH! I bet you were salivating this whole trip, thinking of how many bunnies you could feast on. Weren't you?"

Nick didn't reply, too scared to say anything. Behind him Judy, who was cowering by one of the walls, saw her grandfather shift slightly, before carrying on his rant.

"The old... The weak... The babies! The women! Worst of all, those who your vile allies have brainwashed into thinking that chompers can ever be productive members of society! You know that my grandkits are punished at school for daring to mention the truth about foxes like you! The fact that you are born liars. Born cruel. Biologically perfect criminals, who do nothing but hurt the societies they live in! Damn it, I bet the devil is inside of you every day, joking about how we can't point out that your red fur is his mark!"

Nick just scrunched his eyes up even further, thinking back to the teachers of his school. Only one mammal had ever said he was 'red because the devil made him', and he'd ended up over the knee of the scariest teacher in the school. For the first time in his life, Nick wished that he'd be living with someone like that, instead of the terrible person behind him.

"You must have thought you were very clever," he continued, sneering. "Oh so cunning, FOX! Conspiring with that brute of a wolf. Sweet-talking and conniving to pull the wool over the eyes of that llama. Making them think you were decent, clever even! All so you could weasel into my safe burrow, the last decent place for miles around, and tear it up! I bet you're regretting that now, aren't you? I bet that you're wishing you hadn't thought up this clever scheme! But, as you're a degenerate fox, you'll be thinking up new ones within the hour."

"No sir, I…" Nick tried to say, only for the remains of the cane to come down once more. It smashed against Nick's head and a cry went out as his paws shot up to cover the wound.

"Turn around!"

Too scared to object, Nick followed the order, wailing as he did so. That all stopped went he felt the cold metal tubes ram into his mouth, almost making him gag. His eyes opened, and he saw the barrels of a shotgun in front of him.

" _Mhhhffff!_ " he screamed, only to be muffled by the cold metal of the gun. Otto sneered at him and pushed forward, forcing Nick right back into the corner to the point that his tail bent so sharply it hurt. He glanced around for any help, only spotting a cowering bunny behind a haystack far away.

"Maybe it's destiny, you know?" he said with a vile grin on his face. "Maybe I was tasked to contain you, so that you may not menace the other good families of this area. Maybe I'd even be able to reform you, although the chances of purging the evil from you are virtually zero. However, know this fox. If it's only going to be a matter of time before you try and hurt or connive us, then you better savour that time. As your life will be a lot worse after that, I tell you! You came from hell, I may not be allowed to send you back there without the fools calling me a 'murderer', but I can sure as hell bring it up to the surface. Do you understand?!"

Nick, a tear running down from his trembling open eyes, nodded, and the gun was pulled out of his mouth, though it was still pointed at him.

"Up, and go!" Otto barked, and Nick, shaking as if he were caught in a blizzard, followed the order. He began walking forward slowly, speeding up as he felt the sharp push of the gun on the nape of his neck. He looked around, his mind in panic. His mother had said that mammals like this were long gone here, and the only ones left were the ones his father was fighting across the sea. He'd moved out of the city so none of them could harm him, but here one was. This wasn't what the country was supposed to be like. This was supposed to be fun! It was supposed to be an adventure, like in his scouting books! This didn't happen in an adventure… Even in his comics, when villains captured the good guy, they'd offer them drinks or something and be nice. Either that or tell them their plans and then put them in a trap the hero could escape from. Was this going to happen to him? Was he going to get hurt more? What about the chaperone, or the police? Could he call them, could he…

"Father, what the…!"

Nick looked up and saw a motherly bunny doe in a blue dress looking at them in shock. Her mouth was open in a gape as she trailed off, speechless. Glancing around, and he realized he'd left the barn and was almost at the house itself. All around him, bunnies were putting down their tools and running over to them, all looking shocked. Were they all like the mean old person? Were they all going to scream at him or hurt him? Were they going to all grab stones and pound him to death, like in the horror stories his dad had secretly told him back before he left.

"This fox deceived those damn evacuation officials into thinking he was the best," Otto said. "Worst of all, all those other damn 'friends' of mine decided to believe it and said that I had to take him. Well, I'm going to take him in, and treat him in the way a proper society should! When this fox goes back to the city, he's going to know his place!"

The other bunny just stood there, still blinking, her paw covering her gaping mouth. She shook her head, before speaking. "I don't think the gun is necessary, I can take him up to his room and…"

"NONSENSE BONNIE!" Otto yelled, causing both Nick and her to flinch. "Maybe when we get a deserving prey evacuee, that scrappy room you spent a few minutes failing to spruce up will be put to use. I know just the place to keep this filth."

Bonnie gulped, her face riven with lines of worry as Nick and Otto passed, before she mustered up the courage to speak again. "Yes, but the gun isn't…"

She never got to finished her sentence, instead cutting off as Otto pushed her away, sneering. "Women," he said. "Protect them from monsters, and what do they give you back? Sympathy for them…"

Bonnie looked on as her father marched the trembling little kit onwards into the burrow and down the first flight of steps, travelling deep into the earth. She couldn't help but think about how terrified the little one had looked, how broken and shaken.

"Mommy?"

She turned down and looked at Judy, who'd stepped up to her and was hugging her around the waist. Realising she was panting, she closed her eyes and calmed herself down slightly before replying. "Yes, sweetie?"

Her daughter let go and stood up, before speaking. "He doesn't seem like a bad fox, and Pop-Pop was being really mean to him. Can't we stop him, or…"

"No dear," Bonnie snapped.

"But…"

"I said no!" she said again. Dear god, she didn't want to. But the cry and the orders of her father rung through her mind, and his figure loomed large. She knew that trying to talk him out of what he was doing wouldn't help the fox, and would only bring more misery for others. Pop-Pop knew best, and woe betide anyone who questioned him.

Judy, meanwhile, had released her mother and walked off. She glanced unhappily around at the other bunnies, all her older or younger brothers and sisters, all going back to their work as if nothing happened. Looking closer though, and she saw some of them laughing. Joking and walking about, as if imitating little Nick, before laughing about his plight. Others though carried the very same look that Bonnie had, as if they knew something was wrong but knew that there was nothing they could do.

She hated it.

She hated it all.

She hated how Pop-Pop had screamed at Nick and beaten him and pointed a gun at him. She hated how he'd frightened her, and his mother, and how the fox would have it so much worse. She ran, leaping into a carrot field and racing along between the green leaves. She hated how no-one wanted to help, and how those that might were too scared to do it. She carried on running, up until her throat was dry and her lungs burned, as she reached the edge of the field. Half collapsing into the ditch that ran along the edge, she gritted her teeth and screamed, pounding the ground as she worked out her anger. Her hatred…

Tears began to flow, and she curled up into a little ball as she cried.

She hated him, her Pop-Pop.

She hated him, she knew that now.

She'd know for a while that he was different to other people's grandparents, but only now did she know that this wasn't what a grandparent was supposed to be like. She realised, for the first time, that he was a terrible person. He was wrong, and she knew she'd have to face his anger if she wanted to do what was right.

Her tears drying up, she stood up and looked back over to her farm. She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, and steadied herself.

"I am brave," she said. "I wanna be a soldier, or a policewoman. I… am… brave."

She began walking back towards the farm, knowing that she was going to have to prove just how brave she was.

.

When Otto Hopps had been ranting and screaming about hell, Nick had just worried about what kind of things the terrible man was going to do to him. Now though, as he stepped further and further down into the burrow, he wondered if that was where he was being taken. He didn't dare speak or ask, given the chilling presence of the gun on his back. His paws were on top of his head, at first there to tend to his still aching scalp but now refusing to go down. Weren't prisoners supposed to put their hands on their heads?

He looked down at his feet, still navigating step after step, and he closed his eyes and sniffed as he realised he was a prisoner. This wasn't supposed to have happened. He was supposed to be meeting kind new mammals and unpacking his bags. But, rather than making new friends and starting to learn about the country, he was going to be locked away in a dungeon or something.

Still going down. A soft rumbling could be heard, getting louder, while and odd smell could also be detected. It was putrid and foul. Nick looked around and began to breath in heavily. Were the walls and ceilings getting smaller? Were the lights getting darker? How much further down was he going to go…

Thankfully, as he turned a corner, Nick saw the last flight of steps and sighed with relief. Taking one after the other, he let the push of the gun move him forward, stopping when he felt its grim touch leave him.

.

There was a flicker of the lights, and a short stubby corridor was revealed in front of him. To one side there was an open door, machinery and pumps rumbling in it. It sounded as if his father or mother was running up and down the stairs, over and over and over. Always pounding. Always drumming. The smell was dreadful too. Nasty, sharp, foul. There was a quiver in his gut, and Nick felt himself gag.

"Don't like it, do you?"

Nick wouldn't bear to speak, instead just nodding.

"All the toilets and drainage end up here, and we have to pump it up," Otto explained, taking a mixture of pride and glee in it. "Of course, it's only an odd whiff to me. But your nose, your terrible prey hunting nose, evidently smells something a lot stronger. I like that, you know. A nice irony, don't you think…? First door on the left, I'll drill some holes in the door eventually, so you can always smell that."

Nick slowly stepped forward, taking the first door to the left and stepping into a dark room. Even with his night vision, he could only make out the odd shapes and forms hiding in the blackness.

"Stop. Kneel."

Nick did so, trembling as he got on his knees. A soft rattle could be heard behind him, his ears twitching about as the sound moved and changed. He felt Otto lean over him, and the cold cut of metal around his neck. The harsh embrace suddenly closing around him and locked with a harsh clunk. A chain rattle and a sudden pull, and Nick lowered his hand paws and felt the cold metal collar that had been fastened around him, along with the short chain that anchored him to the wall. He looked back, and saw Otto holding a key up, smiling. He placed on a hook that was high up, far too high for Nick to reach, before flicking a switch on and bathing the room in light.

Nick screamed, as the monsters from his nightmares and horror stories came to life.

A whole regiment, white enamel armour still glossy, with heavy metal helmets and tough shields. All the metalwork was affixed with sharp stud after stud, while racks on the walls were filled with maces and swords and pole-arms and all manner of other weapons.

Near the back, stood a great white banner, a black circle in its centre. A shiny cage, holding back two red eyes and a set of bloody teeth, was at its centre. Around the inner motif, were four silver letters. K, O, T, M.

"The knights…" Nick muttered under his breath, his mind flooding with the stories he'd heard. Predators strung up in trees for merely sniffing around a prey mammal. Those who'd been stoned, or mutilated, for daring to ask for more in life. He was told they were gone. He was told he'd never have to face them.

"Yes." Otto said proudly. "The knights, the glorious knights. Back in the old days, we'd march back and forth, protecting the good mammals of the world against the vile chompers like yourself. I was Paladin Hopps! I wore the armour, and I stood to protect the weak from the cruel. And what did the world do? It called me a fool! It said I had to put up with the cruel mammals, the likes like you, and that I was wrong. Well, I hope you filth now know that some true mammals still carrying the sword, and are not afraid to use it!"

"Yes sir," Nick parroted back. He was panting heavily, holding his legs up close and wondering whether this was the end. Looking up, his eyes met Otto's as he pulled out a device from a chest and moved forwards. Nicks eyes closed and he pulled his head back as he felt the tight clasp of Otto's paw around his snout. Its grip got harder and tighter, before suddenly releasing, replaced with a tight, cold embrace. It dragged back towards the base of his mouth, sealing his lips shut, as a set of straps were pulled across his head. They tightened, sealing him in, before they clicked into the base of the metal collar and sealed shut. Otto's rough paws left Nick's head and he opened his eyes, staring down at the steel muzzle that was locked onto him, sealing his jaws shut. Looking up and crying, he saw Otto hang a second key onto a hanger, before turning back to face him. He leant down in front of him, grabbing the end of the muzzle and pulling him close. His head filled Nick's vision, and he spoke.

"You sweet talked that poor llama, didn't you?" He said. Nick blinked a few times, not sure what to say. "DIDN'T YOU?!"

Nick nodded furiously, before he was thrown back. His head hit the stone wall, and the metal of the muzzle cut into his face painfully.

"I thought so," Otto sneered. "She told you to go to the police if I was mean. But I am not being mean. This is justice, do you understand? Justice for your cruel and wicked nature. Justice for the innocent prey mammals your species still rounds up, to murder and eat. Justice for my son-in-law, who's been deluded into fighting against the Cud Reich, who actually want to deal with your kin in a way that they deserve! Moreover, I have friends in the police who know this. You call the police, and they might just arrest you for something like theft or assault. You'd be doing that back in the city, so it's fair that they'll do that. You'll be facing the noose, you know? A nice short noose that you'll choke on for hours, in agony. Either that, or they'll say you're lying. No-one will question them, and there are those who still know not the trust a fox! Most will take a policeman's word over a sneaky fox kit's one any day! And if you dare cross me, do you want to know what I'll do?"

Nick shook his head, as Otto turned to one on the uniforms and lifted up the metal helmet, a paw caressing the metal spike on top. "I never got a pred tail to fly on my helmet. I think having a fox one would be quite marvellous."

Nick cowered and looked away, closing his eyes and hoping for all of this to go away. He sensed Otto Hopps move about, assessing him, before flinching as he heard the sudden sound of running water filling a bucket. It stopped, and there was a clatter as two buckets were place down.

"There," Otto said. "Water and a toilet. Hopefully you're smart enough not to mix the two up. As for food, I'm going to let that unholy filth clear out of you before I begin feeding you with some honest produce of the soil."

The bunny turned and marched out, flicking the light off and closing the door behind him.

.

Nick was alone. Blackness surrounded him. He tried to move, only for the chains around his mouth and neck to stop him. He began to shake, dread running through him. Jumping up, he pulled his chain tight and turned, clawing at it. Trying to break free. He groaned and whimpered, before collapsing onto his knees. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He darted back, pushing himself against the wall and scanning around. Were the monsters going to come alive? Were they going to cut his tail off? Hang him from a tree? Stone him or burn him? He tried to scream, but the muzzle cut into his jaws, and it only came out as a wheeze. Paws up, he tried to claw at it, ripping and tearing until his muscles ached.

It stayed fixed to his mouth.

He collapsed, folding in on himself and weeping, then crying, and then full on bawling. Tears coursed down him and he shook with each hoarse gasp. He didn't want this. He was scared. Terrified. The walls and blackness and chains and muzzle all seemed to be clawing in at him, strangling him. He thought back to his mother. His home. He shook as he pictured them, terrified that he'd never see them again. He wanted to go home. No matter how many bombs were falling, he wanted to go back home. He wanted his mother, and he wanted to be safe.

.

.

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_Click…_

.

It had seemed like hours. He didn't know how long it had been, or if he'd slept or if anything else had happened. But suddenly, the lights were on. He curled up tighter, not knowing what the terrible bunny had in for him next.

"I'm sorry..."

Nick lifted his head and looked to the source of the strangely familiar voice. It was the bunny girl. Judy.

"I didn't know he'd be this cruel, I… I didn't even realize how cruel he is until today," she said. She stood over him, looking at the wretched, pitiable creature her Pop-Pop had created. When she'd first met Nick at the station, he'd been happy and smiling. But now, he shook and trembled. His fur and clothes were unkempt while his eyes were bloodshot and red, great tear stains flowing down from them. Her Pop-Pop had done this, and she hated him for it. She didn't care about what all the stories had said foxes had done in the past, her Pop-Pop had been twice or thrice as cruel! She turned, looking around at the uniforms, before glancing at the keys hanging nearby. She jumped up to grab them, before walking over.

"Stay still, I'll have you out of that soon."

Nick looked away, scared that something worse was about to happen, before feeling the muzzle come loose and the neck collar slip away. His paws shooting up, he yanked the device off of him threw it far away. Shaking, he took several deep breaths as a friendly paw wrapped around his shoulder. Turning, he grabbed the bunny girl and dove his head into her chest, tears already flowing. Judy wrapped her arms around his head and began stroking him, as he began to bawl and shake with sobs, crying out once more.

"I want to go home!" he screamed. "I want my mommy!"

Judy held him in tighter, stroking him more and more, before making a promise. "I'll keep you safe Nick, don't you worry. I'll keep you safe."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

 

The Fox had cried into her for so long that her clothes stuck to her fur. He gripped her like he was clinging on for dear life, while Judy held him back like a mother would a babe. On the few occasions that Judy had been in charge of a baby, a rare event for multiple reasons, she’d struggle to get them to calm down. Cradling, burping, feeding and petting. While her siblings had been able to know which one was the right option at the right time, and calm the younglings in hand down with ease, she’d instead mumbled through each remedy, all coming up short. Inevitably, there’d be two screaming bunnies instead of just the one.

But unlike all those times, Judy was willing to wait. She petted Nick, slowly rubbing her fingers over the back of his head and stroking his ears, while embracing him tight. Rather than talking, she somehow knew that silence, time and comfort was what he needed.

Still he screamed and cried.

.

His muzzle burrowed under her chin, the soft wrapping of her clothes and fur a world of difference from the cold pain of the muzzle.

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His claws dug into Judy’s shoulders, sharp pricks of pain lighting up as drops of blood began to flow out in return.

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She never thought of him as a predator, or monster, or a threat…

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His name was Nicholas Wilde. He was a scared fox, who was supposed to be coming here to find a safe place to stay.

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Her Grandfather had turned this place to hell.

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She hoped that he’d go there when he died. She hoped that he’d never be able to scare anyone, or force them to do things they hated, ever again.

.

.

.

But first, she knew she’d have to rescue Nick. But that could wait for a little bit, until he had stopped crying.

.

.

.

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“Thankyou…”

The bunny’s eyes opened as he spoke out. She didn’t remember closing them, but she didn’t care. Her vision was filled with Nick’s short red head-fur, slowly moving back and forth as he breathed. There was a soft tremble, a pressure releasing off her chest, as he slowly withdrew from her protection. Drawing out like a sword from its sheath, his muzzle emerged, and Judy stared into his eyes. The vibrant green irises were dulled, surrounded by a sore red spiderweb of shot blood vessels.

“Sorry…” was all that Judy could manage to say back, still feeling terrible at seeing this done to him.

He sniffed twice, before leaning forward. Once buried into her, his muzzle slid over Judy’s shoulder and just rested there.

She noticed a raw red cut on it, the fur parted, and the torn skin beneath bared to the air. She turned and gave it a soft kiss. “I’m going to fix this,” she said.

.

“How?”

.

“I’ll call the chaperone, I’ll call the police, I’ll…”

“He said he had friends in the police.”

Judy blinked a few times, thinking things through. “No,” she said.

“No?”

“No,” she repeated, harder this time. “I think the number of friends he knows can be counted off of two paws. I don’t think any of them are policemen. Even then, there are a few predators in the police. I’ve seen a wolf officer many times. I’m pretty sure they won’t be his friends.”

She felt Nick jolt, while her ears rose slightly at the sound of a choked back laugh. Smiling, she turned slightly and stroked one of his ears. “There… there… It’s getting better.”

“Thank you,” Nick replied again. “Are we going to escape like in one of those comic books? Like those prisoners of war escaping from their camps?”

“I… uh,” Judy began, before pausing for thought. Just running away would be the easiest option, but it would be impossible to escape without being seen. Her grandfather had the truck, and the thought of him capturing them, and the rage he’d have at their defiance, sent shivers down to her core.

“Then how will I get out of here?” Nick asked, whimpering slightly. He pulled Judy in tighter, trembling ever more rapidly as he did so. “I don’t like it here… I’m scared… The muzzle hurts… The chain hurts…”

“So, we’ll show them to the police,” Judy replied, an idea suddenly in her head. “I’ll grab one of the muzzles or cuffs and show them to a predator at the police station. We’ll bring him back here, and we could arrest my grandpa and save you at the same time!”

“What about me?” Nick whimpered. “Do I have to stay in the dark. I don’t want to wear the muzzle again. I…”

“You don’t have to,” Judy reassured him. “Just stay in here, with the light on and unchained, and I’ll be back soon.”

“You promise?” he asked.

“I promise.”

“And what if…”

“Use your chain and collar to lock the door shut,” Judy suggested, looking over to the door in question to make sure that the plan would work. “We can hold it tight between the hook and the door handle.”

“That would work,” Nick replied, letting go of Judy to look at it. He glanced down at the collar at his feet, before looking back at the door. “You go out, and I’ll lock the collar around it. Once we know it’ll work…”

“I’ll run,” Judy replied. “One of the land girls is a horse, and I can ask her to take me over! I’ll take your muzzle too, to show them.”

Immediately off, Judy grabbed the metal contraption and raced out of the door, leaving Nick trailing behind in his duties. Grabbing the collar that had been locked around his neck, he went over to the door, the chain tight as he approached it, and locked it around the handle. “Ready,” he said, before immediately pulling back as the door jolted in its hinges.

“That’ll hold,” Judy called from the other side, before the sound of her pawsteps racing off filled the air.

“WAIT!” Nick called, running to the door after her.

.

The sound of pawsteps got louder, along with heavy breathing. “What’s wrong!?”

.

“Uh….”

“Nick!” Judy exclaimed from the other side, before the door shook, letting out a firm and woody _thunk_.

“I was just, uh… going to miss you…” Nick said, almost as if he was trying to answer a question.

Judy chuckled from the other said. “I’ll miss you too foxy woxy. Be brave.”

Nick chocked back a laugh at the sudden nickname, though he despised it with every fibre of his being. Glancing down, he noticed a crack in the door and slid his paw through, opening it out to the air on the other side.

.

He closed his eyes and smiled as he felt a soft bunny paw gently wrap around it. “Be brave Nick,” Judy whispered, before the paw was torn out of his, leaving him stretching out for the stolen comfort.

He opened and closed his fingers a few times, grasping at nothing, before slowly pulling his arm back into the room. He was alone again, and even though it was bright he could feel the menacing glare of the empty uniforms behind him. Soft breezes and air currents pricked his fur, becoming the swinging of clubs and axes, while the sounds of the burrow became the screams and songs of savage prey out on the hunt.

Nick skulked into a corner, burrowing himself into it. Sitting down, all four paws as well as the seat of his trousers on the ground, he stared at the line made by two meeting walls. Closing his eyes, breathing in and out, he repeated what Judy had told him. “Be brave… be brave… _be brave…_ ”

.

Standing up, he turned to face the costumes, glowering at them as he stared them down. “I’m brave,” he said out loud, “and you do not scare me.”

He repeated it again.

And again.

.

And again…

.

Until it was the truth.

.

Feeling safe, and dreadfully tired, he lay down and curled up on the floor, tail over nose, to rest a bit.

.

.

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“FOX!!!!!!”

Nick jolted awake as the scream rang through the room. Standing up, he looked over to see the door yanking outwards, curses and moans coming from the other side.

“Devil spawn, chomper scum… vile, terrible, unholy…”

“I’m not scared,” Nick shouted out, even as he began to breath faster and deeper.

“YOU ARROGANT FILTH!” Otto Hopps screamed, slamming the door again. The age in his voice gave him power, the creaks and wheezes around the edges of his words giving them a menacing chill, like the sound of creaking timbers in a haunted house. But it was spite, and rage, and blood-eyed fury that defined it. He bayed and roared like a wounded dragon from a fairy tale, while beating and pulling at the door like a giant trying to break free from his chains. “Everything I said was truth! You knew it, and you deceived it from all but me! But I will drag your pelt out into the open and lay bare your sin! I will strip you of everything you hold dear and leave you broken and as harmless as is possible, though I will make sure my sons and daughters know to still treat you like the murderer you could be!”

“No,” Nick said back. “You’re wrong. I’m escaping…”

“DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OVER ME!”

“…and you’re going to be taken away…”

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! IN THE CUD REICH THEY’D TREAT YOU LIKE THE SUB-MAMMAL YOU ARE!”

“…so you can never harm anyone again!”

.

The two sides came to a silence, the shaking door finally still. Nick felt his heart hammering away inside of him, and couldn’t help but let his tongue slip out from the tip of his mouth as he began panting.

.

“Thinking about the taste of bunny meat, I see?”

Almost a whisper…

The blind rage was gone, instead replaced with a slice of aloofness. Like a school lecturer staring down at a young pupil, it cut deep into Nick far more than the raging screams had done. Even though the last words were almost playful, the malice that flowed underneath it all filled every syllable with a far greater sense of dread than anything else Otto Hopps had ever said. Like a torturer taking a quick break, or a cub readying to press down on a trapped wasp with a pencil to crush it, the sense that something far worse was on its way filled the air.

“You wait. I’ll get you soon. Not soon enough, though…”

There was the soft patting of feet on the floor, slowly getting quieter, before they vanished off into the distance.

.

The air was filled with rapid increasing breaths. Looking around, the courage Nick had had slowly faded away. The grim monsters loomed behind him, and glancing around he was able to take in more of their instruments of pain. Leashes and collars, clippers and clubs and brands and flails. Long swords and poles with loops on their end. Black axes with a single great cutting edge, blunt but dreadful. Short curved blades, shaped like a fishing hook and with a gleaming inner edge for pulling up. Pliers and rifles and chains and cuffs and muzzles. Stockades and nooses. Each one could be used in so many ways to cause pain and suffering, and by just lying in position they sent a shiver down Nick’s spine. He thought back to Judy. He hoped she was soon to return. The spectre of Otto Hopps, using his tools to exercise his ‘justice’, was too dark to think about. Turning away from them, Nick began pacing the walls. Nose down, tail high in the air, he scanned for an exit or a cubby hole. A way out or a way to hide.

The entire perimeter was searched, but it was fruitless.

Turning his nose up, Nick began checking the top of the walls for a vent or something.

.

He never heard the soft but rapid shuffle of padless feet

He never heard the clacking of a cane on the steps.

He never heard the furious mumbling, yet alone the odd concerned whisper that followed it.

.

He never heard the first click of cold steel.

.

His ears pricked at the gasps accompanying it. Young, at most barely broken voices.

A sudden “Grandfather!” that was hissed out, its speaker hardly able to believe what he was seeing.

.

Turning around to face the door, Nick heard the slam of tough wood on flesh and bone. The scream of pain and the crumpling of a body collapsing down onto the floor.

.

Sharp inhales out of shock.

Curses said out loud, before a shout silenced them.

.

“WANT TO END UP LIKE HENRY!?”

Otto Hopps sounded like a captain bearing down on mutineers. There was a pause, before the draw and firing of a spiteful spit. The groaning in the background raised slightly a second after it left, before Otto spoke again. This time his voice a grating curse. “Seems like the demon is already corrupting other members of my family. Don’t worry, once I deal with him he won’t be able to harm any of you. I may just be able to forgive this betrayal grandson… as long as you make itself shown whose side you’re on…”

.

There was a quiet shuffling and two quick and muffled clicks.

.

“Good, with me…”

.

Another sharp metal click rang out, like a tolling funeral bell…

.

“Or evil, with it…”

.

.

.

The explosion was deafening. Nick’s eyes welded shut and his paws raced to his ears as it rang out, echoing around the dungeon. A spray of splinters and dust flew over him, peppering his fur with debris, while a sharp pinprick of pain stabbed at one of his arms. Opening his eyes, he looked up and saw the handle of the door half broken off. The door around it looked like swiss cheese, and behind it he could see the gleam of metal as Otto Hopps took aim again. Running even further out of the line of fire, Nick dived and rolled as the second blast tore the door handle clean off.

Coming to a halt, a glance over his shoulder revealed Otto Hopps lumbering into the room. The aged bunny’s face was shriven up into something evil. Behind him, four wide eyed bunny bucks, all sixteen or less, followed. A fifth was behind them, covering his blood red face with a paw.

“FACE ME COWARD,” the patriarch roared.

Nick took off in the other direction, retreating into the back of the room.

Otto nodded, pausing before scowling and giving an upward flick of his shotgun. Another pause, and his five grandchildren began shuffling forward. In a line, they began slowly moving towards the back of the room, drawing Nick in second by second. His fear rising, he pivoted on his hind paw and took in the whole room. All the walls, laden with weapons, were devoid of exits or hiding spots. Setting his eyes on the front of the room, past the advancing bunnies and past Otto, still waiting in the door, he chose to do what he’d seen his paper-printed heroes do many times.

Escape…

Scanning from side to side, the fox charged forward, racing on all fours towards the gap between the bleeding bunny and the one to his right.

“THE SAVAGE REVEALS ITSELF!” Otto bellowed.

Nick heard it, and ignored it. He carried on forward on his course, only to dive off in a new direction at the last second. Diving off to one side, he went between the wounded bunny’s legs.

Slowed by the ache of his face, and literally half blinded by the blood flowing down his front, he narrowly missed the tip of Nick’s tail as he raced through.

“TRAITORS!” Otto screamed, as Nick turned towards him. One last burst of speed, and he pounced, flying past him…

.

The smash of hard wood on the small of his back made him scream out, only for his muzzle to be silenced as it ground into the floor.

.

The pressure of the wooden stock released for a second, before coming back down twice as hard on his nape.

.

.

“Get the things…” Otto ordered.

.

.

Nick’s eyes closed, he felt himself rack up as sobs began to work their way up to the surface. Beginning to tremble, tears started to flow as his paws were grabbed and brought together behind him. Sharp metal cut into both wrists as they were cuffed together.

.

The muzzle came next. Sliding back down his face and crushing his mouth closed. Pinching and cutting as it was fastened shut, it seemed far worse than the last time it was on.

.

Then, a collar came. A loop of metal chain, it wrapped and cut through Nick’s fur and was pulled tight, choking him off.

.

Finally, a rope was dragged over Nicks head, painfully clipping his ears. He felt it push forward, pressure applied through the pole it was mounted on.

.

The handling pole keeping the forward pressure, the chain was pulled back and Nick was dragged to his feet. He couldn’t see Otto Hopps, but he could hear him.

“Feeling good now Fox?” he whispered darkly. “Feeling as cunning and sneaky as you did when you dared try to get into my burrow? Come… I’ve assembled my whole family. I want them to see justice and bravery in action.”

.

.

The steps up were painful. The pole and rope kept pushing, even if the chain never stopped pulling, and the steps were large and tiring. Legs cramping, toes grazed as they were forced once more onto the nosing, Nick kept his eyes pinned on the ground.

Another landing, and another turn right.

Nick began turning right again, only to feel the sting on the chain pulling him into a sudden left.

“Stupid fox…”

.

This time, it was a long corridor that he was led down. A soft murmuring was coming from the distance, getting louder and louder as he stepped every forward.

Sparing a glance up, Nick saw a wooden door far off in the distance.

Looking back down, he watched as he put foot in front of foot.

.

Foot in front of foot.

.

Foot in front of foot.

.

Ever onwards. Ever closer to the door. Ever closer to the noise.

.

.

.

He was pulled to a stop.

.

.

“Come on one of you idiots! Open the door!”

.

A bunny buck hurried in front of them and opened the door. Nick stepped out and looked up, as the murmurings turned into gasps and screams.

In front of him, on tiered levels like a theatre, was the entirety of Judy’s family. Hundreds of children, along with many does just into adulthood. A sea of ears and voices, all retreating back slightly as they looked at him. The screams and noises from before began calming down though, as Nick was marched forward and then pulled back to a halt. In front of him stood a lone dinner table, its brethren all piled up on the sides of the room out of the way.

“Take the fox, lay him on the table, cuff each arm to a leg beneath…”

“FATHER!”

Hundreds of eyes turned to face Bonnie Hopps as she ran onto the stage, her face riven with shock.

“Father, what in the name of…”

“JUSTICE!” Otto roared, like a triumphant warrior.

Bonnie blinked, her paws shaking as she looked down at Nick. She tried to choke back a sob but failed. “What did he do, he…”

“He’s a fox!” Otto shouted, turning to his daughter and looking at her in disgust.

“He’s a boy, he…”

“HE’S A FOX!” Otto screamed again. “AN EVIL AGENT OF HELL! A BUNNY MURDERING MONSTER!”

Bonnie looked back at Nick again, before back at her father. He leaned forward, and growled.

“Don’t… you… DARE!”

“Give him to the Grey’s,” Bonnie sobbed, tears beginning to flow. She stepped forwards, her paws out as she tried to get between Otto and Nick. “Please…”

Otto release the pole from one hand and slapped his daughter hard across her face. She screamed and was sent tumbling to the floor. Retrieving the pole, he looked down at her. She looked up, her fearful eyes wide with shock.

He kicked her.

“Pathetic…”

The venom of the words sent Bonnie flinching back. She got to her feet and retreated away.

Otto sneered at her. “Stupid Doe. Sympathy for the devil. They’ve got you too… They’ve got them all, haven’t they?” He looked up at the surrounding crowd of Bunnies, before looking back at the mother to most of them. “Maybe I should throw you over my knee? Give you a taste of my belt, in front of everyone here. It could do you good… It would do them all good… Then I’ll do Henry. Then all those who’ve been corrupted. First though… the pelt.”

Nick felt himself being pushed forward once more. Moved forward, hard onto the top of the table. His metal muzzle scratched along the surface, bringing curses from the mammal applying the pressure. The push stopped, as did the pull of the collar, as a paw grasped Nick’s cuffed ones.

A click, and one paw was released, only for both to be pulled down underneath the table.

His wrists pulling tight, the cut of the cuffs came back on, and Nick was left with his arms locked together around the table surface.

Trapped.

At Otto’s mercy.

.

“This is a fox!” he announced. “A chomper! A monster! A murder machine! Devil spawn! Any action done to help it is evil. Any action done to harm or contain it is an act of good! Evil has corrupted this family! Evil infects all of you. Disguised as weakness, and sympathy, and compassion! I want you to all witness this, and to hold it in your hearts. Every time you see a predator. Every time you see a fox. This is what you do!”

And then Nick felt his tail being grabbed and yanked up into the air. He closed his eyes, as tight as he could, and tried to think of home and love and his parents…

He was too scared…

“A fox is a hideously vain mammal,” Otto began to lecture. “This tail of his, is worth murdering hundreds of mammals for. He believes it is the world to him. He cares about it more than he does for all of you, except of course as food.”

A sharp yank and Nick cried out, though the sharp muzzle muffled him. Instead he just twitched and shook, crying as he felt the tail button on his trousers being released.

“The tail is also the source of the vile gland that creates his hideous musk!” Otto announced. “Now, I might try and remove that later, but for now I’ll just take off fur.”

A sharp pull, and Nick’s bare cheeks were out in the open.

“All his tail fur, and all the fur that might cushion the impact on his rump…”

“ _Please…”_

“As while this here may be the devils red colour… he need not worry. When I’m done, it’ll be even redder.”

There was a choke, and Nick managed to open his eyes to see one of the bucks who’d tried to capture him dry heaving. The others looked on like deer stuck in headlights. There was the sound of tears and crying from the huge crowd, and the sound of slamming wood off in the distance.

A scrape of metal on metal.

The slamming got closer.

He felt his tail get pulled up tight, and a slight sting of metal near the tip, slowly begging to pull down in jagged stops and starts.

.

There was a sudden slam, and a gasp.

“GET YOUR PAWS OFF HIM!”

He opened his eyes and looked over, his muzzled lips widening into a smile as he saw Judy.

“Do you want a beating next!?” Otto shouted.

Judy, growing larger and smaller as she breathed in and out, answered. “Me rather than him…”

.

The cut of the razor ended, the sound of metal clattering on the table peeling out as it was dropped.

“Fool… Traitor… You are not a Hopps!” Otto seethed, like a framed man at the gallows staring into the eyes of the real criminal.

“If you are, then I don’t want to be,” Judy said back, her fists clenching.

Otto looked at her, then at Nick, then at the thin cane he’d leant against the table.

“I’ll deal with you later…” he cursed, as he snatched the cane and turned to Nick, raised it up high, and then swiped down hard.

Judy screamed, once in horror.

.

The second time in pain.

.

Nick felt the table jolt to the side as Judy grabbed hold of it. He turned to look, but couldn’t see.

Otto saw his granddaughter rise up, a deep welt on her cheek.

Her nose twitching, she sniffed once or twice, before staring down the monster that loomed over her. “Is that the best you can do?” she asked.

.

Otto was silent, his eyes growing wider, before he screamed and raised up the cane.

“STOP IT! STOP IT!”

His arm was grabbed at the apex of his rise by Bonnie, tears flowing down her. Her father shook and tore, but she didn’t let go.

“STOP THAT AT ONCE!” they both shouted, Bonnie distraught and Otto in rage.

.

“Otto Hopps,” a new voice shouted. “Do as you’re told.”

He didn’t pay it any mind, until two larger and padded grey paws locked around his arms. He looked up and screamed. “WOLF!”

“Yes,” the lupine replied. While he didn’t have a helmet, given that he’d taken it off to get into the burrow, he was clad in a deep blue uniform with a column of shining silver buttons and a star fastened to his shirt where a breast pocket would be.

“KILL IT!” Otto ordered vainly.

“The law looks down hard on those who murder its protectors,” he said calmly, as he rose up from his haunches and stoop up to his full height. He looked forward and laid his eyes on Judy, then Bonnie, then Henry and finally Nick. Turning back to Otto, he bared his teeth and growled. “Though given what I see here, and your advanced state, I think the ending for you is still going to be the same. You’re going to end your life at his majesty’s pleasure…”

“No…” Otto cursed, though he shivered with fear as he did so. “I’m on the side of right…” he panted, fear in his voice. “You’re a chomper…! You’re evil…! Family, protect me! Kill him! PROTECT ME! PROTECT YOURSELVES! KILL HIM!”

He screamed out as he felt his paws being cuffed, and then the tug of him being pulled back. “HELP ME! BONNIE, LOVE, HELP ME! THINK OF YOUR MOTHER! THINK OF YOUR CHILDREN!”

Bonnie closed her eyes and staid herself, before stepping forward and speaking out, her voice frayed with nerves. “If you need a witness, call me. I’ll tell you how he threatened both Nick and I.”

“BONNIE!”

“I’ll also press charges,” Henry, the bloody face bunny, stated. Stepping forward, just as nervous as his mother, he looked at his grandfather, a hundred emotions swirling behind his eyes. “I think it’s easy to see what he did to me.”

Otto looked on with horror, unable to comprehend his family betraying him, as the wolf officer got back down onto all fours and began pacing back out the way he came in. “Duly noted, and much appreciated, Ma’am,” he said. “I’ll lead him out and read him his rights. The other officers are here, and if you unlock that poor fox I’ll be happy to take him in.”

With that, he trotted out, dragging a screaming and cursing Otto Hopps out with him. As his screams slowly vanished, Judy gasped as she remembered why she’d brought the police in in the first place. She looked at Nick and raced to him, grabbing the key left on the table and diving for the cuffs.

Nick, who’d just watched the whole scene unfold, felt the cuffs release.

Then, as he brought his wrists up, he felt the grip of the muzzle vanish as it was torn off.

In shock, trembling, he slid himself off the table in autopilot and landed with wobbly legs on the floor, his paws somehow pulling his trousers and pants back on as he did so.

.

A crying bunny jumped into him, hugging him and holding him tight. Burrowing her chest into his shirt, she cried with joy as she muzzled into his shirt. “We won…” she cried. “We won…”

Nick shook slightly, choking up as he tenderly placed his arms around her shoulders and collapsed onto her. His knees hitting the floor, he drew his tail, tattered and bare keel and all, around her and cried too.

“We won…” he sobbed. “We won…”

.

.

.

.

Outside, the wolf officer placed a half furious, half terrified Otto Hopps into the back of his car. Looking up, he spotted several bunnies walking out, carrying a sleeping bunny girl and a sleeping fox with them. All of the family, and the area for that matter, seemed like a great and heavy darkness had been lifted. A dark and accursed fog that trickled into the hearts and minds of all those around it, mixing love with rage and calling evil good and good evil, had been torn aside. Looking closer at the four injured mammals in the ground, he then looked at the cuffed creature he’d freed them from.

.

He spat on the floor, and hoped that in the few years he had left he’d meet all the justice a man like him deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's caught up.
> 
> I'm afraid that while I got my NaMoWriZo Fic out, I only got the first half/ part one written. So, it will be a lot longer before you get the fluffy version of this story.
> 
> But don't worry though, because I've decided to include both a second set of Bunny+Fox-ness AND more Enid Blyton style rambling adventures in the country.
> 
> CYA then guys.


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